The Fianna Fight
by GeneticallyElvenGryffindor
Summary: The One's been found but the battle continues. Caught in the middle, Pixie tries to find her place in the grander scheme of things and figure out just what she's going to do about a certain pitcher she's come to trust.
1. Lullaby

AN: Hiya everyone! I took a bit of a break for a while but I'm back with some more of Pixie's misadventures. You don't have to have read my other stories to know everything about this one. It's just another part of a larger story involving Pixie and her friends. Remember, I'm open to reviews…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know how I'm doing! I'm ready, and willing to read as much constructive criticism as needed to help make these misadventures a bit better.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Once upon a time  
Or so the story's told  
Everyone lives happily  
As the end unfolds

Forever sweet  
And never ending

All I want is to know why  
Life is not a lullaby…" (From "Lullaby" by Hypnogaja)

Pixie was only half listening to the eulogy the Councilman was giving. She was staring at the ground underneath her booted feet, her heart and her stomach someplace down around her feet at the moment. Dressed in black--- another dress with black sweater sleeves covering her shoulders that Rain had recently given her since she still couldn't wear pants and didn't own anything black other than her pants ---she sat and tried not to look too uncomfortable in her surroundings. Being uncomfortable had become the norm for her lately, with her panic attacks not getting any better. Then again, they weren't getting any worse so that had to be a good thing.

Her doctor, not Aisling much to Pixie's chagrin despite the fact Aisling was, well, Aisling, had told her that her panic attacks not getting worse was a good thing. It would take some time before she was fully cured, though Pixie knew one was never completely cured of panic attacks, but things not getting worse was a good sign. The doctor was more than a little confused by the fact Pixie refused any medication for her attacks but she wasn't bothering Pixie about it. It was, after all, the young woman's decision not to take anything for her attacks. She could suggest all she wanted but, in the end, it was up to Pixie and Pixie had elected not to take anything.

The only thing she was taking was a very, very mild painkiller for her back. Her doctor, nor any other doctor they brought in to look at her back, could tell how long she'd be bruised or how deep the bruising actually went. Her own body had to rid itself of the bruises and Pixie just had to live with that fact. The only reason she was taking a mild painkiller was that she found herself unable to sit up for long periods of time without her back bothering her. She'd taken one before going down to the funeral because she knew she'd have to sit up for a long while. Slouching or putting her elbows on her knees to hold her head up just seemed disrespectful.

Though she wasn't technically supposed to be working, due to her injuries and the fact she had yet to report for a psychological evaluation that was deemed necessary after all traumatic events, Pixie had snuck herself into Zion's Medical Center in order to check on Tank. It wasn't that she didn't trust Barriss--- She didn't much like Barriss nor did she much like Depa from the _Shatterpoint_ crew but those were whole other stories. ---to take good care of the badly injured Operator. It was more that Pixie felt like she was partly responsible for Tank's care, being the interim Medic for the _Nebuchadnezzar_ until someone told her otherwise.

That was partly why she wasn't entirely comfortable being at the funeral. Not that she was comfortable with funerals to begin with. The last one she's attended--- or thought she'd attended since she'd been only nine at the time and still in the Matrix ---was the one for her aunt and uncle. Her uncle's family didn't know her at all and had made a huge fuss at the affair. Her aunt, well, didn't have any family save one little girl who sat next to a tall, cold man from the state who glared at her every so often. Pixie didn't remember if she cried at her aunt and uncle's funeral. She'd been too scared; she though, of the man sitting next to her and of the prospect of what was going to happen to her next.

This funeral was different. It felt different to Pixie, if that made any sense. She wanted to cry--- Lots of people were crying and she knew she should have been crying too ---but the tears weren't coming, no matter how hard she tried. Instead, the bitter taste of failure had settled in her throat, choking her, making her feel sadder than she already felt.

The funeral was only supposed to be for Dozer, Switch, Apoc, and Mouse. Trinity had come by the Medical Center to give Pixie the specifics and, when Pixie had expressed veiled confusion about the large funeral, Trinity had explained to her that they were being considered heroes by the Council and given an "Official" funeral--- Something like a state's funeral in the Matrix ---instead of several private ones. The Council wanted to commemorate their bravery in life and in death as they brought the man who was supposed to the One to Zion. Cypher's body was being dealt with in a different manner, or so Trinity said. Pixie wasn't entirely sure what that meant but she didn't want to ask either. As long as he wasn't being treated like a hero, Pixie didn't care what happened to Cypher's corpse.

Cypher was, after all, the cause of the fifth coffin to be interred in the Gardens. Despite the best efforts both she and Barriss had put forth, Tank's infection was too severe. He'd gone into septic shock, even though they were giving him every antibiotic available in Zion, and he wound up going into sepsis which progressed into multiple organ dysfunction syndrome. Even with medical intervention, his body was just too weak to survive the inner battle that had been raging since Cypher's attack. He'd died on Pixie's watch, giving the medic the worst panic attack of her life and forcing her to be sent home to Wheeler and Rain's care.

She was still having nightmares about that day, about how helpless she'd been, but Pixie knew she had to come to the funeral. She was sitting in the front, at the end of a long row next to Trinity who kept peering over to her from time to time for some reason. Pixie didn't quite understand why but she wasn't trying to think too hard about that fact. Though her friends had come along--- Aisling and the others were keeping very close to her. Pixie appreciated that fact, even though she wasn't sure why. Usually, she knew, things like that would annoy her to no bitter end. ---they were sitting at the back of the crowd. The only who'd gotten special permission to sit towards the front with her was Wheeler and only because he refused to sit anywhere else.

Before, she might have been secretly embarrassed by Wheeler and his making a fuss over her. Now, though, she was glad that he was sitting quietly behind her. While she'd been weak because of injury, exhaustion, and panic, he'd been the stronger one. She'd been borrowing his strength to get through her panic attacks instead of using medicine. What they were going to do when they were separated was still up in the air. Neither one of them wanted to talk about that possibility at the moment.

There were other, bigger, things to get by first including funerals and Hawk's trial. The latter Pixie was dreading in the worst way. She knew she'd have to testify about the fight she and Hawk had without freaking out. Not one who liked speaking in front of others, Pixie knew it was going to be a real test of strength and nerves for her.

It was Wheeler who brought Pixie out of her silent, self-imposed reverie with a touch on the shoulder. The former pitcher was careful not to touch her should too hard, lest he touch one of her bruises. He still wanted to hurt Hawk, who was being kept in the stockade, every time he saw Pixie's bruises.

"I think your captain wants you, Pix," he whispered, pointing towards Morpheus.

"You're going to wait around, right?" Pixie asked, hating how that simple question made her sound like she was clingy.

Logically, Pixie knew it was the panic attacks talking. Having declared Wheeler her "safe" person--- one of the few people in Zion she trusted to be around while she was having a panic attack ---she stuck close to him in situations she knew might trigger a panic attack. Well, as often as was possible anyway. It was the main reason he was now living with her and why he'd sat in the front with her during the funeral. If she felt herself freaking out, every attack started with the same skin crawling sensation, she knew she had to just look at Wheeler and he'd help her out however he could.

Now she had to step into the middle of a crowd of people without her back-up. Crowds were something that set Pixie off in a big way. They made her feel trapped, closed in with no hope of escape. Morpheus was standing in the center of a large crowd--- Pixie could barely pick out the top of his head ---making Pixie's heart begin to race.

"I'll hang back here, Pix," Wheeler answered, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. "While you do whatever it is you have to do."

Pixie nodded her head and, swallowing her panic, wandered over to where her captain was standing. It was a tight fit, even for someone as short and slight as she was, but the young woman managed to wend her way over to where Morpheus, along with Neo and Trinity much to her non-surprise, were standing. Standing with such illustrious company only served to make Pixie feel smaller. She reached behind her back, winding her fingers through the ends of her hair. It was a nervous gesture she'd had long before she'd started having panic attacks.

"There she is," Morpheus stated, going to put a hand on Pixie's shoulder but stopping the gesture halfway.

He still wasn't sure how badly bruised her shoulder was and he didn't want to cause the young woman further pain. Pixie was still a very young nineteen years old and the whole incident with Cypher and Hawk had hurt her as much as it did the rest of them. It was the kind of betrayal, Morpheus wagered, she'd read about during her Academy days but never thought she'd experience. The dark skinned captain only hoped that the incident didn't kill whatever innocence Pixie had managed to keep--- which was why everyone said she was a "young nineteen" years old. She was still very much an innocent natured individual, like a young girl. It didn't help she didn't really look her age either. ---and turn her hard and cold.

Hard and cold were necessary for survival as a member of the Resistance but, for Pixie who was quiet and kept to herself; it held the potential of turning her completely inward. She'd lock everyone out because she'd be afraid they'd betray her. Not a situation Morpheus wanted to see play out and not because she was his medic of choice. There was also the matter of a certain young man Pixie clearly trusted. The captain didn't want to watch the relationship she'd built with the young man from the _Shatterpoint_, Wheeler, fall victim to Cypher and Hawk's betrayal. There'd been enough causalities already.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Pixie asked, keeping her voice low out of respect for the bodies near her.

"I thought you would want to pay your respects to the families of our fallen comrades," Morpheus answered.

Pixie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her skin starting to crawl in an all too familiar sort of way. This was not something she was comfortable doing by any means. In truth, it was something Pixie was hoping she could avoid doing all together. Yes, she was well aware of the fact that it was rude not to pay respects to the families of the fallen at a funeral but Pixie just wasn't ready to face other people without her comfortable back up.

Besides, she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say. Protocol said she was supposed to apologize but Pixie wasn't entirely sure what she was apologizing for. She hadn't done anything wrong, technically speaking. She did blame herself for Tank's death--- She had to have been able to do something more for him to save his life. What that something was, Pixie wasn't sure but there had to have been something. ---so maybe she was apologizing for that. For the others, she wasn't sure what to say or if she was supposed to say anything at all.

As she trailed behind Morpheus and the others, keeping one eye on where Wheeler was standing, Pixie wondered if she was going to have to say anything at all. Maybe Morpheus would do all the talking and she'd just have to stand there. After all, with the exception of Mouse, he'd known the others longer than she did.

"How are you holding up?" Trinity asked, stepping in stride with Pixie. "You're still walking, so that's a good thing."

"I'm alright, I guess," Pixie, quietly, answered. "This is a lot to take in. Being here makes it all seem that much more real. I'm not sure that makes any sense, though."

"No…it does," Trinity admitted as she started walking to catch up with Neo. "I'm surprised to see you over here without your bodyguard. I know he came with you."

Pixie shrugged, not really sure what to say. She wasn't ready to admit to having panic attacks to anyone since she wasn't sure what admitting that fact would do to her standing as part of the crew she worked for. Wheeler had come as her "good friend" and that was it. No one, apparently, took issue with him sitting close to the front since it had become common knowledge they were together in the more than friends sense of the word. Pixie was hoping no one had guessed that he was there because he was able to talk her out of a panic attack, should she have one.

Aside from Mouse's foster parents, who surprised Pixie by remembering who she was and how she and their foster son were friends when he was younger, Pixie found all she had to was offer her condolences. Morpheus and Trinity did most of the talking while she and Neo both stood by looking uncomfortable. Their reasons for looking uncomfortable were entirely different, off course--- Him being the supposed "One" and she being just uncomfortable in her own skin ---but the idea was the same. She'd politely offer her condolences and then stand quietly by until they moved on.

It wasn't until they ran into Tank and Dozer's family did Pixie find herself in trouble. Tank's little sister--- Pixie recalled her name being Zee but she'd never had the opportunity to talk to her in person until today. ---was angry, blaming Morpheus for killing her brothers. Not that Pixie couldn't blame her for her anger. Cypher, the man who had killed Dozer and critically injured Tank, was dead and the young woman needed someone to blame. The easiest person to blame was Morpheus since he was the captain of the ship. Pixie was, in a strange way, glad she hadn't rounded on her where Tank's death was concerned. Pixie was already feeling guilty enough about that one as it stood.

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am," Pixie said as she approached Dozer's wife.

Like Zee, Pixie had never met Dozer's wife Cas but she had heard of her. Dozer talked about his family in Zion quite often on the ship. If Pixie remembered correctly, he had two small children. She'd seen them--- a small boy and girl ---sitting with their mother when she came in. Where they were now, Pixie couldn't say. Maybe it was better they weren't around while people recited well worn platitudes to their mother. It was enough that they knew their father was a hero. Pixie was sure it wouldn't stop them from missing their father but it might give them some comfort.

Maybe, anyway. Pixie wasn't entirely sure since her own family memories were fleeting and the image her aunt had painted of her mother--- a young woman named Thora ---wasn't a good one. Maybe it would be different for Dozer's children.

"You're Pixie, aren't you?" the woman asked, catching Pixie off guard.

Pixie nodded and Cas almost smiled, stating, "Dozer…he talked about you quite often. He said he was amazed at how smart you were. I suppose you still are. He was very proud of you, you know? He said you were the best medic-in-training in the fleet because of how fast you learned."

"Your husband was a very good teacher, ma'am. The credit should be his, not mine," Pixie, quickly, pointed out. "He taught me a great deal and was very patient with me about everything we worked on."

"He also did once tell me you were overly modest," Cas countered. "I hope you're going to continue in his position on the_ Nebuchadnezzar_."

"I'm going to have some very big shoes to fill then," Pixie said, trying to sound more confident than she looked. "Because I intend on going back to work once I'm medically cleared."

"I'm glad. I think Dozer would have liked that. Someone's going to have to look after Morpheus and the others," Cas told Pixie. "He'd be proud of you saying that."

Pixie gave the woman a small, sad smile, wondering if it was insanity that was driving her to go back to her old job or because she felt it was necessary. It took less than a second for Pixie to decided it was the latter. Hurt or not, the _Nebuchadnezzar_ still needed a medic and, until told otherwise, that position was hers. She just hoped that "otherwise" never came.


	2. Wake Up

AN: Hiya everyone out there still reading this mess of a story! This chapter would have been up sooner but I got hit with a very large case of writer's block. Though this part was mostly written I couldn't get myself to edit it without my brain turning to mush. Not entirely sure why I had writer's block but I think it's mostly gone now. I could always blame the New York Mets and their awful play but I've just about given up on them. Usually I vary what I'm writing based on if the Mets are winning or losing--- superstitious bunch us baseball fans are ---but I had to change what I was writing daily. Okay…so maybe the writer's block was their fault! Anyway, thanks to everyone who's taken time out to read this story! I really appreciate it! To anyone who's left me a review or put my story on their alert list, you rock like a box of socks! Feel free to leave a review….good, bad, or indifferent! I'm just curious to read what you have to say!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"If the children don't grow up,  
our bodies get bigger but our hearts get torn up.  
We're just a million little gods causin' rain storms turnin' every good thing to  
rust.

I guess we'll just have to adjust." (From "Wake Up" by Arcade Fire)

It was a rare occasion but Pixie found herself by herself. Usually someone--- alright it was mostly Wheeler ---was with her during her waking hours because of her back. She still wasn't able to bend from the waist to touch the floor nor was she very able to lift heavy objects either thanks to the bruises on her back. Pixie was aware of the fact she'd be limited for a long while because of the bruises. For awhile, at least, they'd be a lasting reminder of what Hawk had done to her. Maybe he intended things to be like that and maybe he didn't, Pixie wasn't entirely sure. Thinking like Hawk, having to guess at his motives for trying to cripple her left her shaking in her socks.

Pixie knew she'd eventually have to face Hawk but she wasn't exactly thrilled by that prospect. She knew it was important to everyone in Zion to have someone convinced for what transpired on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Cypher, the mastermind as it was, had been killed by Tank. The only person left to blame was Hawk, who'd been party to Cypher's treachery and the only person who knew what Hawk had done was Pixie. She had no doubt he'd be found guilty of both his and Cypher's crimes. Her testimony was only a formality, really. It was just so Hawk could be found legally guilty.

Hawk still had the right to a trial, no matter what he'd done; at least that's what Ngaio had told her. He had to have a trial otherwise he could claim he was being kept in the Stockade without reason. That would be seen as a failing of the justice system in Zion. There would be a closed trial--- just the council, Hawk, and what was left of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ ---and only one witness to be called. Pixie was that one witness, even if she really didn't want to be.

The fact the trial would be closed only made Pixie's nerves that much worse. She wouldn't be allowed to have anyone in the room with her just in case she happened to freak out. She'd been hoping her friends could come in with her but that wasn't going to happen. Aisling had already decided, though, that they'd gone down with her and wait for her to be finished. It was the least they could do, the honey blond Zion Born figured. Pixie didn't know why Aisling was being so kind to her--- Aisling was, generally, quite sarcastic and loved nothing more than to tease Pixie. ---but Pixie wasn't going to question it.

Wheeler had said she'd need to widen the circle of people she felt safe with and where better to start than with her long time friends. Pixie had already decided she wasn't going to tell them everything about the panic attacks she was having. She figured Aisling would guess what was wrong with her, eventually, but Adoh and Ngaio might not. Either way, Pixie decided she'd take Wheeler's advice and try to make them into her "safe people" just as she'd done to Wheeler. Pixie figured, though, that no one was going to take Wheeler's place. He was still going to be her primary "safe person" whether he liked it or not.

At the moment, though, Wheeler wasn't around. He'd left early, just after breakfast, claiming he'd be back later. There was something about a meeting of the _Shatterpoint_ crew he had to attend. They were speaking with the Council a few days before Hawk's trial in order to recount what events they'd seen.

Wheeler had ordered Pixie to relax and rest up--- his non-medical, medical opinion ---but Pixie had never been good with being idle. Even when she'd been at her sickest in the Matrix, Pixie hadn't been good with being idle. She always had to be doing something; anything at all just to keep her mind busy. If left too long, the young woman knew she'd start to dwell on the thoughts in her head and that was a very dangerous thing to say the least. Especially now since the thoughts in her head all tended back towards her panicking about something. It was safer for her to be busy; even if her back was protesting against it and she was well aware of the fact it wasn't good for her to keep busy because she was on her feet.

At the moment she was leaning over--- not the best position to be in as her lower back was screaming at her to straighten up ---checking on a round bottomed flask resting in what looked like half a hollowed out grey softball. Whatever was in the flask seemed to meet her approval as Pixie flipped a switch on the grey boxy object that was supporting both the flask and its grey softball seat. She checked a few more connections on the distillation devices she'd set up around her front room, the soft sucking sound coming from one of them fading as the crowds meandered outside her door.

Pixie had left her front door open a fraction of an inch just to let the "stale air," at least that's what Wheeler called it, out of her small home. Though she didn't like crowds, herself, the noise outside her small home made Pixie feel better. It made her feel less alone, even though the crowd was outside her home and she was busy inside.

It was the sound from the crowd that alerted Pixie to something strange going on. The noise was no longer the normal babble of people as they passed on their way to and from wherever they were going. Instead it was that strange sound growing crowds made. It was like organized chaos in a way, the sound she was hearing. Lots of voices trying to talk as one and it wasn't working.

Curiosity getting the better of her--- Pixie was never one to leave her "experiments" running without her watchful eyes on them ---the young woman wandered over to the door and opened it a bit more so she could stick her head out. On the far end of the walkway, a large crowd was gathering for reasons Pixie could only guess at.

"What in the world is going on?" Pixie mumbled, speaking to herself as she sometimes did when she was alone.

Checking to see if a crowd was gathering at the other end of the walkway, Pixie got her answer. A long figure at the other end, the end opposite of the gathering crowd, caught her attention and answered her question in one fell swoop. The figure was walking along the length of the catwalk, trying to look everywhere at once as if he or she wasn't sure where they were.

Whoever this person was, he--- Pixie was fairly sure it was a guy ---appeared both lost and confused, with a little bit of afraid thrown into the mix. As the person drew closer to her doorway, Pixie figured out both who he was and why the crowd had gathered at the far end of the walkway. A small smile crossed her face as she realized that it was only thanks to her repaired eye sight that she'd been able to come to such a conclusion without the thick lensed glasses she'd worn during her time in the Matrix.

The lone figure, walking along the catwalk and seemingly trying to figure out just where he was at the moment, was Neo. How he'd gotten down to Pixie's level was a question the young woman couldn't answer. She'd assumed that Neo would be staying with Trinity several levels above hers. The homes on the upper levels were nicer than the standard three room homes people like Pixie got.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that someone had tipped off the crowd of Neo's appearance on the level and they were waiting to ambush him. What Neo had managed to do in the Matrix--- destroy an Agent, which had been previously been thought impossible ---had gotten leaked to the general population. Those who believed were eager to have the man they thought was "the One" give them blessings and make promises to protect family members on other crafts.

"He's absolutely not ready for this," Pixie mumbled, now standing in the doorway of her own home trying to decide how to save Neo from the crowd that was looming before him.

As Neo crossed her path, not noticing Pixie standing there watching him with a curious expression on her face, Pixie decided it was time to do something. Thinking on her feet--- something Pixie knew she wasn't the best at doing ---she grabbed Neo by the hand and half-dragged him into her own home.

"Follow me," she mumbled, ushering the One into her home and slamming the door behind her as hard as she possibly could.

Pixie had to give Neo credit. He didn't say a word to her until she slammed the door. If it had been her, and some unknown person had dragged her into their home, Pixie liked to think she'd put up something like a fight. She guessed, or, at least, hoped, she'd caught Neo so badly off guard that he didn't have time to react to his pseudo-abduction by Pixie.

"What's the big idea?" he started, glaring at Pixie in a frightened sheep sort of way.

Pixie sat down Indian style, on one of her mismatched chairs and gestured for Neo to do the same. He took the seat across from Pixie, noticing for the first time that he knew his would-be abductor. She might have looked a bit neater but it was still the young woman he remembered being introduced to what seemed like a whole other lifetime ago.

"Those people down the end of the catwalk knew you were coming--- someone probably told them you'd gotten lost or something ---and were waiting to ambush you," Pixie answered. "I figured that getting caught in a crowd looking for your blessings was a bit much for your first few weeks here. I just figured you'd want to avoid something like that."

The young woman shrugged, wondering if she'd just offended Neo somehow. She was just acting on an impulse; doing what she thought was right. She wasn't actually sure what Neo was and wasn't ready for. He could have been well prepared to face the crowd and she didn't know it.

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding confused and making Pixie feel a bit better about what she'd done.

Neo hadn't had much time to interact with the population of Zion. He'd spent most of his time being poked and prodded by members of the Science Council who wanted to see how his mind differed from all the other minds they'd freed or questioned by members of the Council--- the older men and women who seemed to be in charge of Zion ---who wanted to know how he'd managed to destroy and an Agent. If he wasn't with them, he was with Trinity. For some reason, people tended to give Trinity wide berth even when he was with her.

Neo had been trying to get back to Trinity's after another day of questions. Apparently, he'd taken a right when he was supposed to hook a left or something because he'd gotten lost. How he'd wound up on Pixie's floor was just one mistake he'd made. At least, Pixie had found him. Maybe she'd be able to get him back to Trinity's.

Pixie giggled, the sound muffled by the sleeve she was using to cover her mouth, and got up to pour more of a solution she'd brewed up into a large funnel. The vacuum that had just been a low, annoying sound in the background grew louder for a brief moment as more of the solution was pulled into the flask below. Neo stared at the large funnel, wondering what exactly Pixie was doing.

"You're the One," Pixie started to explain, returning to her seat and tucking her legs underneath her again. "People who believe in you are going to expect you to make miracles and for you to end this war. At least, that's what I've heard anyway."

She shrugged and continued, "Don't get me wrong, I saw what you did to Smith and how you can back. I might even believe that you're the One but please don't think me rude by not expecting miracles from you. Call it scientific skepticism if you want."

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two crew members as they sat across from one another. The only sounds filling the space between them were the vacuum sounds coming from the overly large funnel and the boiling of water coming from the distillation devices. Other than that, Pixie stared at the top of her worn table and Neo continued to try and figure out just what Pixie was cooking up.

"Come on," Pixie suggested breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I'll give you the grand tour of the place."

Gingerly getting to her feet--- sitting down hadn't helped her back any ---Pixie made an expansive gesture, indicating the entire room around her. Pixie wasn't exactly a neat freak but she liked things to be orderly. It made living in three rooms a whole lot easier. Lately, Rain and Wheeler had been helping her with the minor chores around her three rooms. She'd pointed out, more than once, that she didn't need any help but both Rain and Wheeler had smiled and just nodded their heads and helped anyway.

Secretly, Pixie didn't mind them helping. It was just that she hated feeling helpless. Being helpless reminded her of her time in the Matrix and that was a time Pixie didn't want to go back to. She still had to prove to herself that she could do things herself.

"This is my living room, kitchen, hallway, and like a million other things," Pixie stated, taking about the room they were currently standing in. "When you're living in three rooms sometimes spaces take on more than one use."

"What are you doing with these?" he asked, recognizing the distillation devices Pixie was using since he'd seen Dozer's on the_ Nebuchadnezzar_.

One of the two devices was producing a vaguely orange colored liquid; the other a clear liquid. Behind him, the larger funnel was still busily separating whatever Pixie had poured into it. Neo got the feeling he was either standing in the middle of his high school chemistry classroom or in some sort of illicit laboratory.

"Distillation devices," Pixie answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'll explain those later."

She practically had to pull Neo away from the two devices that sat gurgling on in their respective niches. There was more to her tour than the little lab she had running in her kitchen.

"This is the bathroom but there's nothing really to see in there. It looks like every other bathroom in Zion," Pixie commented, pointing to a heavy metal door. "And his is my room. Just give me a second."

She stuck her head around the heavy orange and blue curtain that separated her room from the rest of her home. Since Wheeler had come to stay with her, his things had found a home in her room. It was easier than him having to go back and forth everyday to get clothing. Though nearly everyone knew that Wheeler was staying with her--- why he was staying with her, that story varied from person to person ---the two of them had been careful not to show it. Technically speaking, the house was still Pixie's and Wheeler was just staying over. Neither of them wanted to give their friends, especially Aisling anymore ammunition to use on them.

"Are you hiding someone in there?" Neo asked, remembering that Trinity had said Wheeler--- a boy from the _Shatterpoint_ and Pixie's boyfriend ---was staying with Pixie now.

Pixie pulled her head out from behind the curtain, giving Neo a shy smile. She almost couldn't believe that he'd asked her that question. He didn't really seem like the type to ask questions like that but, then again, Pixie was well aware of the fact she wasn't very good at reading people.

"No," Pixie, carefully, replied."Wheeler's at a meeting with his crew so he's not around. I just wanted to check to make sure the bed's made and stuff. Wheeler's been helping me with the stuff I'm not technically supposed to be doing because of my back."

The room he entered was a far cry from what Neo had been expecting. He'd been expecting to see more experiments going on, like the lair of some kind of mad scientist. Instead, he found himself faced with a very simple and oddly neat space.

Pixie's bed was an alcove in the wall and seemed to be covered in several differently colored, heavy blankets. The topmost was bright red--- almost the same color as a fire engine ---and appeared to be hand dyed. Sitting propped up against the few pillows was a ragged looking item Neo wasn't really sure he recognized. The rest of the room seemed to be full of various storage bins containing clothing and assorted small items--- most appearing to be paperback and hard covered books of all things ---tucked into various niches in the walls.

Pixie wandered over to her bed, sitting Indian style in the widest part of the arch. She sat quietly and watched Neo as he stood in the doorway of the small space she and Wheeler shared and she creatively called her bedroom.

"You can come in and look around. There's nothing here you won't see in my bunk on the _Nebuchadnezzar_," she stated, matter of factly.

"What's that thing?" Neo asked, pointing to the creature sitting on her bed with her.

"This guy?" Pixie stated, gently removing the ragged looking creature from his home nestled in the pillows at the head of her bed. "His name's Eli."

She handed the figure to Neo, allowing him to get a better look at it. Her brandy brown eyes were focused solely on Neo and on how he was handling the stuffed creature in his hands. From the way she was watching him, Neo was getting the feeling that Pixie was afraid he was, somehow, going to hurt the stuffed thing. The creature was a frivolous item but Pixie treasured him nonetheless. She didn't want to see anything happen to him.

Neo took the creature from Pixie, wondering what it actually was. It was made of a nubbly brown fabric and seemed to be only partially stuffed. Two tiny spots of rough, black felt made up eyes and a larger one appeared to a nose. Black thread, coarse under his fingers, filled in for a mouth.

It took Neo a second to realize what Pixie had handed him. It didn't look like what they looked like in the Matrix but that didn't seem to matter to Pixie. She seemed to think the creature he was holding was important. The thing was, it wasn't some sort of creature. Upon closer inspection, Neo realized that it was a teddy bear.

Ever so carefully, he handed the bear-like creature back to Pixie who, gently, placed it at the head of her bed. She looked at the bear for a moment before turning her attention back to Neo and the question he seemed to want to ask her.

"He was a gift from my foster mother, Rain. She makes fabric to be used for clothing and bedding and has access to that kind of stuff. He's made of extra bits of fabric that were too small to be used for anything else," Pixie explained.

"But if you were fifteen when you came here, what are you doing with a teddy bear?" Neo wanted to know.

Most of the teenagers he'd met in the Matrix weren't exactly the type to keep stuffed animals. Then again, most of the teenagers he'd known weren't like Pixie, who was still, technically speaking, a teenager. She was more an adult in miniature than a rebellious, partying nineteen year old college student. An adult in miniature who kept stuffed animals and storybooks but still a smaller version of an adult.

"Rain was making one for her son and she made me one too. She said she realized I was too old for stuffed animals but she felt bad just making one for her son since she'd only just adopted me. That made me like her daughter or something like that," Pixie explained.

"Why Eli?" he asked, understanding why the teddy bear-like creature was important to her but not its name.

Pixie hid her laugh behind a cough and turned a very interesting shade of pink. It was a strange name of a bear but, like the bear, there was a reason behind the name.

"Rain's son's name is Eli. He's sort of like my little brother now but when Rain gave us our bears, he asked me what I wanted to call mine and I told him Eli as a joke. The name kind of stuck," Pixie told Neo.

"Is his bear's named Pixie?" Neo wanted to know with a laugh.

Pixie shook her head, brushing her loose hair from out of her eyes, and replied, "Actually it isn't. His is named Dweezle or something weird like that."

Deciding she'd done enough sharing for one afternoon, she added, "Come on, I'll show you what I had cooking in the kitchen!"


	3. Weird Science

AN: I'm sorry about this chapter being delayed. I've been mired in issues involving the State and license I didn't know I needed. Apparently no one told me I needed to be licensed to work in a clinical lab. I've been trying to get this license without the help of my college or the Graduate School I went to. I've been jumping through preverbal hoops for the better part of the month and it's making me crazy. Coupled with the fact my computer hasn't been behaving as nicely as I'd like it to, I've been a very unhappy camper. I'm still working on the license thing but now I have my laptop hooked up wirelessly so, if this computer isn't behaving, I can always move over to that one. Anyway, thanks for sticking around anyone out there still reading this mess of a story. I promise some action--- and Hawk's trial ---sooner rather than later. To anyone who's taken time out to read this story, thanks very much! I really appreciate you taking time out to read this misadventure. To anyone who's made my story a favorite, put me on alert, or left me a review, you rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm always open to reviews…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know how I'm doing!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Weird science  
Things I've never seen before  
Behind bolted doors  
Talent and imagination

Weird science…" (From "Weird Science" by Oingo Boingo)

Pixie figured Neo had assumed the worst when he'd stepped into her house and seen the lab she'd created for herself. There were plenty of stories, she knew, of homemade labs in the Matrix exploding because of experiments gone horribly wrong. From what she remembered, though, those labs were usually up to no good or the people running them only knew the basics of chemistry, if they knew that much.

Her lab was pretty safe, as far as Pixie was concerned. She'd gotten all her equipment from the Science Council. It wasn't new by any standards--- They kept the newer equipment for themselves. Though "newer" was a relative term in Zion. ---but it was still functional. The glassware she was using wasn't cracked or mended with duct tape. Broken glassware was actually melted down to make new glassware. Technically speaking, there was "new" glassware in Zion. It just wasn't what was used on the ships or by the younger members of the Science Council.

With Neo trailing behind her, looking at her oddly as she ran through the orange curtain that separated her bedroom from the rest of her house instead of parting it like a normal adult would, Pixie announced, "Welcome to my laboratory!"

"Isn't this your kitchen?" Neo asked, giving Pixie a confused glance and looking around the medium sized space.

She seemed almost at ease standing in the middle of the room, with her experiments working behind her. The room, itself, was as neat as Pixie's bedroom except for the bits of lab equipment sitting on stone and metal counters. Two he recognized as distillation devices--- and only because he'd seen Dozer's on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ ---but the third device, Neo had no idea what that was.

"I only have three rooms since I'm not a high ranking officer. This space is my kitchen, living room, laboratory, and just about everything else. The only thing I don't do is sleep in here but that's because the couch hurts my back," Pixie commented with a painful looking shrug.

As she talked, she started to walk, a bit slower than before thanks to her back starting to bother her, among the experiments she had going. There were connections to be checked, lines to be adjusted, and, in the case of her vacuum flask, more liquid to be added. Since she was trying to "take it easy," Pixie only had three major experiments running in her kitchen.

If Wheeler, who'd taken over cooking duties when he discovered that Pixie didn't actually know how to cook, saw what she'd done to the kitchen area, Pixie figured he'd be less than pleased. He did have a point--- it wasn't smart to mix her experiments with the spaces used to prepare food ---but Pixie needed someplace to work when he wasn't around. She figured that her little experiments weren't a big deal since she was, in essence, creating "natural" compounds. The only reason they were called "artificial" was because they weren't made from "natural" sources. Since the natural sources didn't exist anymore--- though there were people on the Science Council who were trying to re-grow some of the plants from the Matrix in their underground home with varying degrees of success ---"artificial" was the best anyone could do at the moment. Maybe when they weren't so focused on winning the war, science could turn its collective head and mind to other things.

Not that there weren't people already focused on doing other things. Someone had to be responsible for the fact everyone in Zion wasn't eating the goop those who worked on the ships did. There were several someones, as a matter of fact, working on that. One had been a professor of Pixie's during her Academy days. She'd wanted Pixie to go into research work since she insisted it was more suited to Pixie's personality. It was quiet, safe work, perfect for someone like Pixie who was more of an academic than a fighter.

Pixie had always known she wasn't very strong nor was she insanely brave. Though the bravery claim was being disputed now by her friends after the fight she'd had with Hawk. Either way, she knew that applying for a job on a ship wasn't what her professors wanted her to do. Smart people, it was argued, should stay behind and help Zion by working in one of the labs. The young woman had other things in mind, though, and when it came down to choosing what job she'd like to have, she went with the job her professors had warned her against.

Still, Pixie couldn't deny the fact that she actually enjoyed everything and anything related to science. She'd taken every science course, both at the Academy---where she took classes with the Zion Borns because they were more "fun" ---and on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ to supplement anything she might have missed learning in the Academy, she could get her hands and head around. Like many medics, in what little spare time they had, she did small things for the Science Council. They supplied the equiptment and whatever stock solutions the individual wanted and they were assigned experiments to work on.

Pixie had been given organic chemistry experiments--- very basic ones, at that. Basic as in Organic Chemistry Semester One experiments. ---to work on this time. Though they were taught in Organic Chemistry classes, there was nothing truly organic about what she was making. Not in the proper definition of the word "organic" anyway. They just mimicked organic compounds using inorganic solutions.

Most of the time her little experiments worked well enough that she'd been able to repeat them on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. That was how she'd learned to make the homemade pain killers that had gotten her into the fight with Hawk in the first place. It was an experiment that she'd been able to repeat many times over with good results.

The only time they didn't really work was when she was working with alcohols. For some reason working with alcohols never yielded the proper results. Her first experiment--- done in her first semester Organic Chemistry class ---using alcohols was just to make simple mash alcohol. Pixie remembered working at the same lab bench with Aisling, who'd been taking the class with her, and following every direction to the letter. When it came to boil off, then cool down, the alcohol to produce a product, Pixie found herself staring and a distillation apparatus that was doing nothing. She had no product to speak of.

Eventually the whole mess was chalked up to human error---the catchall term for what happened if an experiment didn't work in an Academy's lab class ---which worked for Pixie. It annoyed her that her experiment didn't work but sometimes things like that happened. When it her experiment failed the next time she worked with alcohols and the time after that, Pixie decided it had to be her. It wasn't human error ruining the experiments; it was just rotten luck on her part.

Now, though, Pixie figured she'd better get cracking on the whole making alcohol thing. That had been Dozer's job and she figured she'd inherited that along with his position as resident medic on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Not that she'd wanted to earn the job the way she had but it was how things worked out.

Pixie was only vaguely aware of Neo watching her as she went about her work. Wheeler always joked that she stayed in her own head when she worked on her science projects. He'd told her once that he tried calling her for ten minutes while she was working and she hadn't heard him. It had taken him coming up behind her and tapping her on the shoulder--- making her jump in the process ---to get her attention. Changing the Erlenmeyer Flasks that were filling up at the ends of the two distillation devices, Pixie wandered over to the table with the capped, flat bottomed flasks in hand.

"Want to smell?" Pixie offered, setting the two closed flasks on the table before her.

"What do you have in there?" Neo wanted to know, looking at the two innocuous flasks as if they were about to explode and disgorge their liquid contents all over his lap. "Is it something dangerous?"

The fuller flask contained something that was orange in color but wasn't the bright orange of orange juice or what the Matrix said was orange juice anyway. It was more the dark orange color of dirty carrots. It didn't seem to have the same consistency as orange juice either. It looked slightly oily, bending the light like a car's oil slick. Neo was almost sure that, if he were to drink whatever was in the orange flask, he'd probably get sick.

The other flask was filled with something that looked like water. Like the orange filled flask, however, it was bending the light in an odd way. There was a faint rainbow across one of the sides of the flask as it bent the light in the room.

Neither flask seemed to contain anything particularly dangerous but Neo decided to be cautious. He remembered not only the homemade alcohol Cypher had given him but the things he'd been tricked into drinking and eating during his college days. Pixie might have looked like a young girl and seemed to be relatively harmless, but he still didn't trust what she was making in her little in-house lab.

"They're not dangerous," Pixie answered with something like a giggle but not quite. "They don't let us take the dangerous experiments home. Only fully vested members of the Science Council can work on the more dangerous experiments. They have their labs down in one of the lower levels with the other councils, I think."

"Then what's in the flasks?" Neo asked again.

"The orange one is called Limonene. It's the basis for any and every citrus scent that's known in the Matrix," Pixie explained. "That's why it sort of looks like dirty orange peels. It's actually the essence of orange."

Looking at the clear flask for a long moment, she added, "This one is a little harder to explain. See, I could tell you that it's peppermint but it's not really and I could tell you that it's spearmint but it's not really that either."

"What is it, then?" Neo broached.

An odd look crossing her face, Pixie sighed and explained, "It's pretty much a racemic compound because it contains almost the same amounts of the molecules that make up peppermint and spearmint. The two of them--- peppermint and spearmint ---are enantiomers so they're really hard to separate because they're basically the same molecule except one bends light to the right and ones bends it to the left. It's just easier to leave them together in a mixture. It doesn't smell so bad, even though it's a mix of two different things."

"You mean to tell me you're making perfume in here," Neo commented, trying his best to ignore the fact Pixie had just sounded very much like a chemistry textbook and the fact she was doing something very girly instead of dangerous like he'd initially thought.

"Not a chance," Pixie exclaimed, sounding almost insulted by Neo's claim. "The Science Council has bigger things going than making perfumes for the women here. It's not something that's helpful to the war effort. At least, that's how Commander Lock would put it. Where he's concerned, everything everyone does has to be helpful to the war effort."

Shrugging, and hiding a giggle behind her sleeve, Pixie added, "I guess you could use them as perfumes, really, but I wouldn't recommend it. You'd have to water it down until there was some small amount of parts per million in order to make wearing it tolerable. Using its pure form would be…disgusting…to say the least. Smell it and you'll understand what I mean."

Pixie pushed the dark orange flask towards Neo, trying to hide her frown as he unstoppered the flask and prepared to smell it. To her, and it might have been just because of where she'd been raised, the orange liquid smelled like orange or yellow Fruit Loops cereal. Well, what the Matrix said orange or yellow Fruit Loops smelled like. Either way, it wasn't a smell she enjoyed in its purest form.

She used the watered down version in her soap and shampoo so she didn't have to smell like hard water and engines all the time. It was girly and silly but it was the one concession she allowed herself. That and her hair, which was currently loose and not bound up in a braid. If she was home, there was a good chance her hair was loose. There was also the small problem of her braided hair hitting her bruised-but-healing shoulders. Wearing her hair down--- despite the ambient heat in Zion ---was the best option, Pixie figured. It was light enough not to hurt her shoulders whenever she moved, not like the tied end of her braid might.

One sniff of the viscous orange substance was all it took for Neo to start gagging. His face turned a startling shade of pale and Pixie was, for a long moment, afraid he was going to be sick. She could smell the strong, cloying odor coming off the orange flask from her seat across the table from Neo. Pixie fought the strong urge to push back in her seat just to get further away from the smell since it was that strong.

Pushing the flask back towards Pixie, wearing a disgusted look on his face and coughing in a painful sounding way, Neo asked, "What do you use that for?"

"It smells so strongly now because there's so much of it in the flask. It kind of hits you in the back of the throat when you smell it like that," Pixie explained. "Its practical applications, if you could call them that I suppose, would be to take, maybe, less than half an eyedropper full of either substance and mix in cough syrup for the younger kids in Zion. It makes their medication a little more palatable for them."

With a crafty sort of smile--- the type of smile that made Pixie look like her elven namesake ---she added, "My friends and I, well mostly my female friends, usually take one of the oils and mix it in with our shampoo and soap. That way it doesn't smell so…industrial, I guess."

Neo laughed, trying to imagine Trinity doing the same. For some reason, he had trouble imagining Trinity doing something like that. It did seem like something that a teenager--- something Pixie actually was, job or not ---would do though.

"It was my friend Aisling's idea," Pixie blurted, feeling the need to justify what she was doing to Neo. "Her mom works and makes soaps and stuff and she got the idea to start mixing the oils in with the stuff her mom makes. It sort of took off from there. A lot of girls do it so the feel more girly, I suppose. I mean, my friend Aisling says it's hard to be girly on a ship surrounded by guys."

From the one time he'd trained with Pixie--- Playing around in a program that was more role playing game than anything else ---Neo had learned three things about the young woman sitting in front of him. The first was that she really liked puzzles in every form except when they included numbers. Second was that Pixie was a lot smarter than she let on. The young woman knew more about most topics than he did, though that wasn't saying a lot. It was better to say that she knew almost as much about things as any other older member of the Resistance despite the young age.

The third thing, the one that was coming into play now, was that Pixie tended to babble when she was nervous. She'd managed to tell him the entire history--- or as much of it as was known ---of the humans who came out of the Matrix just because she accidently called him a "freak."

"Is that all you make?" Neo asked, vaguely gesturing to the nosiest machine Pixie still had running. "Any other experiments you have going in here?"

Pixie opened her mouth to explain when a very loud knock and a shout outside her red door got her attention. It wasn't so much the knocking that interrupted her train of thought but the shout. It was a voice she'd recognize anywhere and one she wasn't expecting at the moment. Since everything was making her jump at the moment, unpleasant side effect of her panic attacks, Pixie excused herself and went to see who was making such a racket at her front door.


	4. Friends

AN: I'm sorry it's been almost a month since I updated this story. I know I'm only editing and adding to a story I've already written but I've had the worst case of writer's block. See, I started studying for my ASCP License Exam and studying tends to gum up my brain in the worst way. I'm still studying but I think I've managed to knock the writer's block out for the moment. This chapter is sort of set-up to Neo meeting what Pixie would creatively call her "family" and Hawk's trial, among other things. Plus I just wanted to drag Wheeler back into the story. He's always fun to mess around with, especially where Pixie and her friends are concerned. To anyone who is still out there reading this, thanks for taking the time out of your day to read my little story. To anyone who's put me on alert or left me a review…you rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm open to any and all reviews…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know what you're thinking!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"All my problems seem to disappear  
Everyone that I miss when I'm distant  
Everybody's here…" (From "Friends" by Band of Skulls)

Being careful to make sure no one saw who she was hiding in her kitchen, Pixie slipped out the small crack she opened in her door. Standing on the walkway outside her door were several people, strangely enough, though she knew which one of them had done the shouting. Only one of her friends was loud enough to be heard through a heavy metal door.

"What happened Aisling?" she asked, noticing that Adoh, Aisling's twin brother, and Conall, Aisling's erstwhile boyfriend, were holding a very contrite looking Wheeler between the two of them. "And can you let Wheeler go?"

"We'd love to let Wheeler go, Pix," explained Conall. "But he's not quite himself right now so I think it's best we keep a hold on him."

Pixie gave Conall, who she only knew from Aisling's stories, a skeptical look, unsure if she actually believed him or not. She didn't know Conall all that well, vaguely remembering him from some of her classes at the Academy but he came from a different circle of friends. The only reason he was part of her circle of friends now was that he, on occasion, dated Aisling. Pixie didn't exactly consider Conall one of her friends. He was more Aisling's friend and, therefore, part of the group by proxy. What he knew about Wheeler, who'd always been part of her circle of friends, was beyond her.

"Adoh," Pixie said, turning to the individual she knew was more familiar with Wheeler than Conall. "Why can't you let Wheeler go?"

"Because Aisling said so," Adoh answered, wincing as his sister glared at him.

That made Pixie smile. The world around her might have changed but there were still certain things that stayed the same. The way the two honey-haired twins treated each other was one of those things that hadn't changed. Adoh still listened to everything his elder twin said because Aisling had no issue with whacking him upside the head for doing something she thought was "stupid."

"I think it's safe now, though," Aisling commented in an off-handed sort of way. "Wheeler isn't going to act up around Pix. She might throw him out something if he did."

Pixie sighed as Conall and Adoh let go of Wheeler's arms. Her relationship with the scruffy haired, former pitcher was the subject of any number of jokes by Aisling and Ngaio, her best friend and Adoh's steady girlfriend. Now that they were living together--- an almost necessity because of Pixie's panic attacks. She'd come to rely on Wheeler as her "safe person" during her worst attacks which were now happening at night and in place of nightmares. ---Aisling's jokes had only become not so much worse but more expected and, therefore, less annoying. Less annoying most of the time anyway.

"I wouldn't throw him out," Pixie, indignantly, replied leaving off the part where if she did throw him out, Wheeler would have nowhere to go.

Since neither of them were sure how long it was going to take for Pixie to get over her panic attacks--- more like learn to live with them than get over them as Pixie explained that one was never, actually, cured of panic attacks. You just learned how to live with them as best you could. ---let along ship out again, the young pair had decided to make their living arrangement more permanent. That way he'd be around if Pixie needed him and finding each other, in the rare occasion Pixie was actually home, would be a whole lot easier if they were staying together.

Though changes, particularly big ones, threw Pixie for a loop, she found that this change was more comforting than frightening. Maybe it was because she'd made Wheeler her "safe person" or because she trusted him or something else. Pixie wasn't entirely sure why but she was perfectly comfortable with Wheeler moving in with her. There was just the space issue to deal with--- where to put his things in her living space ---but that kept Pixie's mind busy and, as Wheeler discovered one day, a busy Pixie was a panic-free Pixie.

"Sorry for showing up like this," Wheeler commented. "But they had their reasons for dragging me back home like this. I'm not saying they were good reasons but they still had their reasons."

"It's not a problem. Should I be afraid of why they dragged you back home?" Pixie wanted to know, her voice a whisper as she spoke to only Wheeler and not their friends.

Pixie was completely aware of the fact Wheeler was standing closer than she'd normally allow anyone else to stand next to her. She felt his arm--- covered by a rough blue sweater he'd pulled on before he'd left that morning ---slip underneath her hair to pull her closer. In the world of Pixie and Wheeler, it was the closest thing they had to a public display of affection, especially in front of their friends. Since their return to Zion, Wheeler had been keeping a closer than normal eye on Pixie. Not because he didn't trust her but because he wanted to make sure she was alright.

Physically, Wheeler knew Pixie was as healthy as someone with deep bruising up and down her spine could be. He even caught her stretching a few days ago, despite the fact he--- and just about everyone else ---knew that Pixie hated to stretch. Her doctors had told her she had to rest, lest she do more damage to her already battered back but Pixie was already up and testing her limits. She hadn't told Wheeler why, beyond her saying she couldn't stand just lying around doing nothing, but the former pitcher had a feeling it had to do with her past in the Matrix. She'd told him she'd been sick quite often when she was in the Matrix and he imagined that being laid up and injured was reminding her of that time. Knowing that he wasn't going to be able to stop her from stretching, Wheeler only told her take it easy and be careful.

When he returned home to find her fresh out of the shower wearing something like a smile--- along with a sweater he was sure might have been his ---he knew she'd accomplished something. Pixie had later told him that she'd discovered her range of motion wasn't as limited as the doctors had said it might have been. She'd found part of her flexibility hiding under the bruises. It had taken some stretching to coax it out but she'd eventually found it hiding.

It was her emotional well being Wheeler was more concerned about. Between funerals and Hawk's looming trial, Pixie's panic attacks were starting to get worse again. More than once he'd woken up to find her shaking with restrained tension in bed and breathing faster than normal. She claimed nightmares were triggering the attacks, which might have been true, but he knew Pixie was worried about the trial. There were too many emotionally trying situations on the horizon and it always seemed, to Wheeler anyway, that Pixie was moments away from totally freaking out.

Today might have been a good day, though. She didn't seem relaxed--- even before the panic attacks, Pixie never seemed relaxed ---but she didn't look uncomfortable in her own skin either. Pixie seemed a little uptight but she was teetering on the verge of freaking out either. That had to be a good thing in Wheeler's estimation. The more good days she had, the better it would be for both of them when they both had to go their separate ways.

Not that Wheeler was rushing that either. The Council could take all the darn time they wanted with trials and experiments and whatever else they were doing. He was glad for the downtime with Pixie, even if she was hurt and panic stricken part of the time.

"You probably should," Aisling answered, making it clear that Pixie's whisper was too loud. "We have such a story to tell you!"

"We probably should go inside to tell her," Adoh commented. "Talking about what happened out here would be rude. Other people could hear."

"As if they haven't heard what happened already. All you're interested in is whether or not Rain sent down food for Pixie," Ngaio laughed.

Pixie cast, what she thought anyway, was a secretive glance at the door behind her. She knew Neo was inside waiting for her and she knew it wouldn't be fair to him to bring her friends in. The twins were staunch believers in the whole idea of the One and they'd been waiting to pounce him since first meeting him at The Parting Glass. The only one she had no qualms about bringing in with her was Wheeler and only because he lived there now. That and she knew Wheeler wouldn't make a huge deal about Neo.

"You can't!" she blurted. "I have dangerous experiments going on inside and I don't want anyone getting hurt!"

"Pix, now you're the one being silly. You're too good at that science stuff so no one gets hurt when you have your little experiments going and we all act accordingly while you do so we're not going to mess anything up," Aisling stated.

"Unless she's hiding someone in there," Ngaio suggested, giving Wheeler a wink.

Wheeler trusted Pixie completely but couldn't help but turn his attention to Pixie, who was sporting a furious flush across her pale face. Wheeler knew it was an angry flush and not her normal blush because Pixie's face turned an inhuman shade of crimson when she was angry with someone. Blushing always started out as a pale stain that turned darker as she got more and more embarrassed.

Pixie wanted to whisper to Wheeler that it was just Neo and she was keeping him away from the masses until Trinity or Morpheus could take him back to wherever it was he belonged. That would have been too conspicuous, too easy to spot by her ever observant friends who'd noticed her not so quiet whispering before. If Pixie wanted to tell Wheeler what was really going on, she figured she was going to have to get creative about it.

Slipping one hand under the hem of the shirt he was wearing, Pixie tried to write the word "Neo" across the small of his back. She wasn't entirely sure if that part of his back was as sensitive as hers when it came to touch but she could hope it was. If it wasn't, well, she was just going to confuse Wheeler with her actions and have to figure out another way to tell him what was going on.

It took Wheeler a second but he gave Pixie a small nod, showing that he'd understood her covert little message. He'd been part of the crew who'd rescued Neo and had worked alongside him before heading back to Zion. Like Pixie--- but not because of Pixie ---Wheeler had been skeptical about one man being able to end a war that had been going on for one hundred years. Then he sat on a rooftop in the Matrix next to Pixie and watched Neo fly through the air like a super hero out of the comic books he wasn't supposed to have been reading. That changed his mind very quickly.

"Who's in there, Pix?" questioned Adoh, sounding curious.

A small frown crossed Pixie's face, knowing even her attempt at a subtle ruse hadn't worked. Her friends might not have seen what Pixie had "written" onto Wheeler's back but they'd seen Wheeler nod and look in Pixie's direction. Odds were on the fact the pair weren't sharing a look of affection since that wasn't Pixie's style. She'd just told him her secret and now the others wanted in on it too.

"There's no one in there. Like I told you, I have some very sensitive experiments running and I don't want any of you getting hurt if something goes south," Pixie answered, trying to keep a very straight face and knowing she wasn't at all succeeding at it.

"Liar," Aisling quipped, taking her usual place as Pixie's friendly tormentor. "Now are we just going to have to rush the door or are you going to tell us the truth?"

"I'm not lying!" Pixie insisted, her voice going up an octave. "Please, Wheeler, tell them I'm not lying."

Wheeler gave Pixie a small, understanding smile. He knew that she was a terrible liar and couldn't pull of surprises to save her life. Still, he felt the right thing to do was to help her out. He didn't want to leave her hanging out to dry especially when it was Aisling she was being left out for.

"Why would Pix lie?" Wheeler brought up, trying to stifle his own laughter. "I know for certain she had some very dangerous experiments going on in there before I left. Maybe we could talk about what happened another time."

Aisling groaned and pointed out, "The pair of you are terrible liars. What is so important in there that you can't let us in, Pix? Are you like hiding the One in there or something?"

Pixie looked down at her boots, embarrassed now. Aisling squealed--- a fact Pixie knew the honey haired Zion Born would dispute later on ---and a very wide grin broke out on the face of her brother. If they'd celebrated Christmas in Zion, and some Pod Borns still did, it looked like had come early for their honey-haired twins.

"I can't believe you're hiding the One in your house! That is like beyond awesome," Aisling exclaimed, her voice ringing down the unusually silent corridor.

"Aisling, please, keep it down," Pixie warned, in a hissed whisper, "I don't want all of Zion trying to batter down my door just because of who I happened to have visiting me at the moment."

Shrugging, the darker haired Pod Born added, "Besides, he's just Neo. He's not really that big a deal when you think about it."

"To you he's not that big a deal because you're lucky enough to work with him," Adoh stated."Come on, Pix, can we please meet him? I'd be your best friend forever if you let me."

"You already met him, remember?" Wheeler cut in, buying time for Pixie. "At The Parting Glass when we went with Pixie and her crew."

"Yeah but he was busy talking to everyone else. This would be a one-on-one meeting with the One. That's something you tell your grandkids about when you're old and gray," Adoh countered, turning his attention back to Pixie.

Pixie scuffed her boots against each other, wishing she was still wearing her socks instead of adding more scuff marks to already badly scuffed boots. She felt like it was wrong not to let her oldest friends actually meet Neo, even though at least two of them were strong believers in the One. Then again, she didn't want to freak out one of the newest members of Zion's population--- and a crewmate of hers if she got her job back ---by letting her friends meet him. One at a time, it might have been a different story but this was the whole group of them. That was a different story entirely.

"I guess I could let you all in but you have to promise not to make a big deal about him." Pixie mumbled. "He's just another new person living in Zion. I think he's only the One when we're in the Matrix or something."

She was hoping that, if she asked nicely enough, they would do as they were told. That way, she wouldn't feel bad about leaving her friends out and she could keep Neo away from a potentially awkward situation.

"You sure about this?" Wheeler whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her neck.

She gave an involuntary shudder as Wheeler spoke to her and managed a nervous sort of smile. Though it impossible, philosophically speaking, she both loved and hated the fact Wheeler could usurp all her logic and make her as nervous as a grade schooler on Valentine's Day with nothing more than a whisper. Pixie was sure that meant something but didn't feel the incredible need to figure out what it meant at the moment. That was something to think about later.

"I think I'm pretty sure," she whispered back in. "You met Neo and you didn't make a big deal about him, even after we came back from the Matrix that time."

"That's true, Pix," Wheeler said. "But I'm also not a believer like the twins are."

"You mean you'd let us meet the One?" asked Adoh, sounding awed.

"So long as you don't do anything to scare him or anything," Pixie amended. "You can meet him. I don't want him running back to Morpheus and Trinity and telling them I cornered him or something. You're not the rear end they'll be kicking when everything is said and done."

"So, that's it. So long as we don't act weird, we can meet the One," Aisling summed up, "Sounds like a good deal to me."

The group of teens made their way to Pixie's red door, Aisling going to open the door. Pixie slipped into the small space between Aisling and the door, frowning when she felt the metal of the door dig into her bruised back. It wasn't exactly her brightest moment but, then, she wasn't sure if what she was doing was bright to begin with.

"Let me and Wheeler go in first…please," she requested.

"Why?" questioned Ngaio, from her spot next to Adoh.

"He...um...knows us better and he won't freak out if he sees Wheeler," Pixie answered as she pushed the door open. "Since he knows Wheeler lives here and all. You guys can come in after us, I guess."


	5. Smells Like Teen Spirit

AN: I know I've been really bad at updating this story…like awfully, terribly bad. I've been having some major computer problems and my computer's been taken into the shop twice. This is going to be the first time I've attempted an update from my laptop…that I have hooked up to my DSL because someone tried to "fix" the wireless router and wound up turning off the wireless component on my laptop. I'm still trying to work out that problem! It's bad enough that when I have to study, I have to hook my laptop up to the DSL and have wires all over the place just so I can get on the internet. Anyway, I apologize for being a bad author. I haven't given up on this story and I will try to update more often. Thanks for sticking around, anyone who's read, put this story on alert, or left me a review! You all rock! Please remember, I'm open to any and all reviews…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know how I'm doing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"I'm worse at what I do best  
And for this gift I feel blessed  
Our little group has always been  
And always will until the end…" (From "Smells like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana)

Neo was only vaguely curious about who had been banging and yelling outside Pixie's door. Though she was painfully shy and reserved while on the ship--- the only time he'd heard her say more than a few words was the one time they'd gone into a training program together ---Neo had learned that Pixie had a small circle of friends in Zion. The group of teens, all who looked to be the same age and included Wheeler, had been with Pixie almost every time Neo had seen her. He figured it was probably one of them shouting outside her door. The "whys" of that situation were beyond Neo. He figured that it was just a case of teenagers acting like teenagers and being noisy and loud.

Besides, the inside of Pixie's three room home was mildly interesting. Sitting at her scuffed and slightly rusted table, Neo could see all of Pixie's little experiments. There were the two distillation devices she'd shown him earlier, still filling up large, round bottomed flasks. The other device, the one she hadn't explained to him, sounded like a muted vacuum cleaner and was draining vaguely red fluid into a flat bottomed flask Neo proudly remembered was called an Erlenmeyer flask from his chemistry classes in the Matrix.

The set-ups Pixie had spread out all over the kitchen all appeared to be straight out of someone's basic chemistry class. Neo had a funny feeling, though, that these experiments were easy for Pixie to do. She was, as far as he could see, one of the smartest people in all of Zion. How she'd wound up working on a ship was also beyond the man some said was the One.

The red door that blocked Pixie's home from the catwalk street creaked open, catching Neo's attention. Looking up, Neo saw a red faced Pixie wander into her home with a scruffy haired young man. Though he'd met several people during his short time in Zion, Neo remembered the scruffy haired young man as being from the _Shatterpoint_, one of the two ships that had come to the rescue of the derelict _Nebuchadnezzar_, and had called himself Wheeler. He was, as Trinity later put it, Pixie's "male friend," which, of course, translated into boyfriend.

He'd stayed with Pixie, as her bunkmate and human watchdog, as they'd tried to get the _Nebuchadnezzar_ into good enough shape that it could be towed back to Zion. Now, back in Zion, it was common knowledge that Wheeler was living with her. Supposedly, he stayed with her because of her back but, as was normal in any version of reality where humans existed, there were rumors about what the two nineteen year olds did behind closed doors.

Neo, who found himself subject of many rumors ranging from his relationship with Trinity to what powers he had in the Matrix, decided to take Trinity's advice on the rumors related to Pixie and Wheeler. Trinity had said to believe whatever Pixie said. Pixie was completely unable to lie so she was completely trustworthy. If Pixie said she and Wheeler weren't doing anything other than just living together, then that's what they were doing. There was no ulterior motives, no reason to listen to rumors. Things were just as Pixie and Wheeler said they were.

"Neo, you remember Wheeler, right?" Pixie, lamely offered as she stood close to the door.

"It's good to see you again, sir," Wheeler stated, shaking Neo's hand and making Pixie wonder for the millionth time how the former pitcher had managed to keep so many of his southern mannerisms despite the fact he didn't live in Texas anymore. "I'm glad someone came by to keep an eye on Pix. I don't like her being by herself for too long because she doesn't know how to slow down and relax and I'm afraid she's going to hurt herself."

Neo shook Wheeler's hand, grateful that the young man from Texas wasn't falling all over himself, making a big deal about him being the One. Wheeler, if Neo remembered correctly, had been with the group that had backed him up when he let the Machines know that he was onto them. He'd heard the young man, after the fact; make a comment about super heroes and flying

It was hard for Neo to say if Wheeler was just acting the way he was, treating Neo as if he was just one of the guys and not the man who was supposed to save the Real World, because he wasn't a believer or because he was just not making a big deal because he knew it would upset Pixie. Pixie was still on the fence about whether or not she believed in the whole idea of "the One," as she'd told him herself. Neo wasn't sure if that extended to Wheeler or not.

Then again, it could have just been Wheeler being Wheeler. Someone--- Neo was almost sure it was Pixie's friend Chian from the_ Logos_ ---had said that Wheeler had never quite outgrown the manners he'd learned in the Matrix. He was polite to everyone because that was how he was brought up to act. The scruffy haired young man was especially polite to females, or so Neo had heard, to the point where he didn't like fighting them in case he hurt them.

"I do so know how to take it easy," Pixie mumbled. "And I know how not to hurt myself."

"Then why is the kitchen full of experiments, Pix," Wheeler countered, noticing that a pale hand was insistently tapping Pixie on the shoulder through the crack in the door.

"I got bored," Pixie answered, sounding a bit sheepish. "And they weren't anything major. I just didn't have anything to do, that's all."

"You know there's a hand on your shoulder, Pix," Neo pointed out, using the informal nickname she'd told him to use once upon a time.

Pixie sighed, feeling badly for what she was about to do, and pulled the door open a bit more to show a huddle of teenagers that Neo assumed were Pixie's friends and the ones who'd started banging on the door to get her attention. Two members of the group--- a honey haired young man and young woman who looked as if they could be twins since they looked that alike ---stared at him with wide eyes. Two others, an Asian girl and a boy who was hanging back from the rest of the group, didn't look as shocked as the pair he assumed were twins.

"Come in," Pixie sighed. "I guess I can't leave you standing out there."

"You can't stand up for that long anyway, Pix," the female with the honey colored hair quipped. "I've seen your medical chart. You would have eventually gotten tired and had to sit down and then we would have broken in here faster than you could think."

Though there were only four of them, two young men and two young women, they seemed to be as loud as a small army as they meandered into Pixie's small home. Neo almost wanted to accuse Pixie of setting up this ambush by her friends, even though she'd just saved him from an ambush by a bunch of strangers, but he figured he shouldn't. Their appearance seemed to catch her off guard and she looked just a little embarrassed as the front room seemed to get a bit smaller with all the people crowding around the table.

"Guys this is Neo," Pixie said, after a few beats of uncomfortable silence. "You met him at the Parting Glass when we went with the rest of my crew."

Turning to Neo, Pixie added, "Neo, these are my friends Aisling and her twin brother Adoh. That's Ngaio behind Adoh. The other guy is Conall…he's not really part of our group but he's dating Aisling so he's unofficially one of my friends I guess."

A few beats of extremely uncomfortable silence filled the space between Neo and Pixie's friends. Pixie felt her skin start to crawl as she waited for her friends to do or say something to Neo. Though she didn't say anything, Pixie found Wheeler standing next to her. He took one of her hands, holding it behind his back so no one in the room could see they were holding hands.

Not that anyone was paying them any attention but Pixie still appreciated the gesture. If Aisling had caught them holding hands, they'd never hear the ends of it. It was enough that their living together had become a major topic of Aisling's jokes.

"I can't believe it! You're the One!" Adoh, finally, exclaimed, breaking the uncomfortable silence and earning him reproachful looks from not only his sister but Pixie, and Wheeler as well, "It's beyond an honor to meet you, man."

"Didn't Pix tell you not to do that," Aisling stated, smacking her brother on the back on his head. "You're such an idiot sometimes! You can't even follow simple directions."

"Sorry," she said, turning to Neo. "My little brother gets carried away sometimes. He's younger than I am so he doesn't know how to conduct himself like an adult in public sometimes."

Though her words were even and logical, the tone of her voice clearly matched the awed one used by her brother. Though they'd seen Neo at The Parting Glass, there'd been others and the teenagers hadn't had a chance to actually talk to Neo. For as long as Pixie had known Aisling and Adoh, and their mother Una, she's known they were believers in the One. To actually be able to talk to the man who was supposed to save the Real World, had to be something special for them.

Pixie was actually surprised at how restrained the pair was being. She figured things were going to go a whole lot worse when the twins got to meet Neo.

"It's alright," Neo laughed, as Adoh rubbed the back of his head and glared at his sister in an embarrassed sort of way.

It seemed strange that something as normal as sibling rivalry existed in the futuristic world he was being told was home now. The pair of honey haired twins were acting just like any pair of siblings back in the Matrix might act. Neo guessed that some things never changed, no matter where people were told was home. The human race was still the human race, when it was all said and done.

"Aisling and Adoh are Zion Born," Pixie pointed out, matter of factly. "So is Conall, come to think of it. Ngaio is like Wheeler and I. She's from the Matrix."

Pixie's comment made a certain sort of sense to Neo. Though it was slightly unnerving, he'd gotten so use to the jacks in his arms that he'd almost stopped seeing them there. The two honey haired twins--- Aisling wearing a faded green tank top and Adoh in a short sleeved blue shirt ---had no jacks in the portions of skin Neo could see. They were like Tank and Dozer, genuine children of Zion.

The other two, Ngaio and Conall, Neo hadn't been so sure about. Ngaio, wearing a blue tank top that was just a few shades lighter than the one Adoh had on, had her arms behind her back. Conall, like Wheeler, was wearing a long sleeved sweatshirt. It was hard to see if they were Zion or Matrix born with their skin covered like that.

"Don't knock it, Pix," Aisling commented with her usual dose of sarcasm in her voice. "Maybe you've been jealous of me and my little brother all these years because we're not riddled with holes and you are."

Pixie only shook her head and laughed at Aisling's comment. Aisling would never know the truth about how grateful Pixie was to have metallic holes in her arms. Pixie harbored an extreme fear of needles--- not of blood as was considered normal but of the metal needles that broke through the skin ---and, since coming to the Real World, had discovered she never had to worry about getting one. Blood was taken and IVs were run through the jacks in her arms.

Neo, who didn't quite understand the banter between the group of teens, looked worried for a moment, as if a fight was going to break out between the Pod Borns and Zion Borns. Their laughter confused him further as everyone settled in around the table or on the counters. Instead of a fight, Neo found himself at the center of an entirely new world…one run by a group of nineteen year olds who were a mix of Pod and Zion Borns and seemed to be perfectly alright with that.


	6. The World Awaits

AN: Um…hi! Remember me? I know I haven't updated this story in like forever and I'm really sorry. I have no intentions of abandoning this story but I couldn't bring myself to write or edit anything for it. I had the worst case of induced writer's block ever. Hopefully, I'll be able to get a few more updates in now that the writer's block is mostly gone. If anyone is still reading this story, I thank you for sticking with it. Remember…reviews, good bad, or indifferent, are always appreciated!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"…who we are  
Has brought us here  
And I'm not running from tonight  
And I'm not running from tonight  
And where we are standing  
Is the beginning  
And I'm not running from tonight  
I'm not running from tonight…" (From "The World Awaits" by Corey Crowder)

"How are you liking Zion so far, Neo?" one of Pixie's friends, Aisling he thought, asked, as she leaned back in one of the mismatched chairs around Pixie's table.

After bantering back and forth with each other for a short time, sharing recent gossip and avoiding whatever Wheeler had done to bring them all to Pixie's home, attention had turned to Neo. Pixie had paused, worried about what they were going to ask him but their questions seemed to be steering clear of what he'd done in the Matrix. Not that what Neo had accomplished, destroying an Agent, hadn't gotten around and into the general population. Everyone knew the story, of course. Pixie was just concerned that her friends would want to hear the story firsthand from Neo, himself.

"It's big," Neo started, before Ngaio cut him off.

"Yeah, we all had that same thought when we first saw this place. It's really huge," she put in. "When I first got here, looking over the railing made me nervous. I use to worry I was going to fall over and down to the bottom level."

"So, other than big, what do you think of our fair city?" Adoh inquired, half looking at Neo and half watching Pixie and Wheeler who were busy across the room.

It was more Wheeler who was busy than Pixie. He was pulling things out of a high cabinet while she stood by, trying to help out as best she could. Pixie, once she was sure her friends weren't going to do something stupid--- Though she was keeping her ears opened, just in case. ---had wandered off to one side of the room. Wheeler had quickly followed her, though he seemed glad about the distraction. Though Neo didn't know the group of teens all that well and had never been great at reading people when he was in the Matrix, he was pretty sure Wheeler wasn't exactly on the best of terms with Conall. The way the two of them were acting didn't exactly give the newly freed man the idea that they were in any way, shape, or form friends.

"Food!" Adoh exclaimed, before Neo could start speaking again. "Please tell me that you didn't make this yourself, Pix."

Pixie tired to look offended but all she managed to do was blush and duck her head as she and Wheeler put plates of food on the table. Neo wasn't sure what any of the food was but it seemed appeared to be edible. Probably tasty too, considering the way the honey haired boy dove into it.

"No, I didn't make this," Pixie, sheepishly answered. "Rain packed it up for me when she came here with Eli last night. She made dinner for Wheeler and I and gave me the leftovers along with some other stuff she made."

"Our Pixie," Aisling pointed out, matter of factly. "Is pretty much the smartest person in all of Zion, in case you haven't noticed. She probably hasn't told you but she has a genius level I.Q. which is why she was able to get a job on major ship straight out of the Academy."

"But," Ngaio added. "Pix can't cook to save her life which is kind of funny. That way, until Wheeler came along, she only used her kitchen as her lab. She use to go running to Rain when she had to eat."

Noticing Neo's slightly baffled expression, Pixie sighed and explained, "Rain's my foster mom and I don't go running to Rain when I have to eat, Ngaio! She says it's alright for me to come up and visit her as often as I want."

"But the food thing has to be a bonus," Adoh put in. "Aisling and I may not agree on a lot of things but we do agree that Rain is a better cook than our mom. Just don't let our mom hear you say that."

"We'd never hear the end of it," Aisling finished.

"But if Rain is always cooking for her, how'd she figure out she can't cook?" Conall wanted to know.

Pixie blushed a very bright shade of red and, suddenly, found her attention drawn to one of her experiments. Conall hadn't been part of the group--- He and Aisling had been on an "off" in their very "on-again, off-again" relationship. ---when Pixie had discovered her inability to cook. She had nothing against Conall but didn't exactly feel like sharing that particular story with him. Mostly because it was one her more embarrassing Real World stories and she wasn't exactly comfortable with him knowing it.

Though she knew she could, in theory anyway, trust her friends, there were still things Pixie didn't like sharing with them. Within her group of friends, only Wheeler knew about her past…issues…in the Matrix. She hadn't--- Still didn't, truth be told ---felt ready to tell everyone else that part of her story. Maybe she would someday but that day wasn't now and didn't seem to be coming up anytime soon.

Where Conall was concerned, because he was new to their little group and was only part of the group when he was going out with Aisling, Pixie was still wary about trusting him. She was sure Aisling had told him things about her, since he seemed to know her pretty well yet she knew next to nothing about him, but exactly what Conall knew about her remained a mystery to Pixie. An embarrassing story about herself, she wasn't going to willingly share with him.

"Pix, aren't you going to answer Conall's question?" Aisling wanted to know.

Sighing, and knowing that Aisling wasn't going to leave her alone until she said something, Pixie answered, "Recipes and I don't get along, that's how I figured out I couldn't cook. No matter how much I tell myself it's like chemistry, I still can't follow a recipe."

Shaking her head in the general direction of her dark haired friend, Aisling explained, "What Pixie really meant to say is that she invited all of us over once when we were all on leave together and she wound up making something--- I don't even remember what it was. ---that tasted so bad we all had to go down to the Officer's Mess to eat."

"Wasn't that the time she made herself sick?" Ngaio put in. "And Wheeler had to take her back to Rain's."

"Leave Pix alone, guys," Wheeler stated, trying to change the course of the conversation and get it away from Pixie and her misadventure in her kitchen. "Everyone makes mistakes. It's what makes us human, right?"

"At least Pix learned from that mistake and never decided to cook for us again," Aisling laughed. "In case you didn't know, Neo, our Pixie is very thick headed and hates making mistakes."

"That's because she's not use to making them," Adoh stated. "No joke, this girl is smarter than like all of us put together…but you probably knew that already since you've worked with her."

Pixie was almost sure that Adoh was going to say "because you're the One" and she was infinitely glad that he hadn't decided to say that. Actually, to tell the whole truth, she was very surprised the twins were managing to keep themselves in check, especially Aisling. Never one to hold her tongue--- She'd always said what she wanted when she wanted to. ---Aisling was being surprisingly well mannered around Neo. Maybe it had something to do with the fact Aisling firmly believed Neo was the one or because Conall was with her at the moment, Pixie wasn't entirely sure. She wasn't going to question the situation either since, as of late, her fortunes hadn't been all that great. A little thing like Aisling holding her tongue was a huge thing.

"He probably doesn't know, Adoh," Ngaio countered. "Pix doesn't like to bring up that little fact…she never has even from back in our days at the Academy."

"Remember how hard it was to get her to help us with our work back then?" Aisling wanted to know. "Not because she didn't want to help but because she was afraid we'd get mad if she helped us and gave us, like, the wrong information."

Unless they were asking him questions or he was asking them questions, Neo found himself content to sit in the middle of Pixie's "kitchen" and try to figure out how in the world these kids---young adults really, since they were all nineteen years old ---were able to act so normal, given their situations. He'd learned, almost right away, that each of Pixie's friends were members of the Resistance. They all held different positions and worked on different ships but they were all soldiers.

Yet, they were all sitting around Pixie's table swapping stories about their families in Zion or trying to embarrass each other with stories of their shared pasts. It was as if whatever they did outside of Zion didn't really matter at the moment. They all seemed to be busy just enjoying each other's company. Neo figured that there was probably some kind of reason why they were acting like normal teenagers--- Something like this was how the dealt with their adult jobs and everything that went along with them. ---but he wasn't a psychologist so he couldn't be sure.

There was actually something comforting and strangely normal about the group of nineteen year olds acting sort of like nineteen year olds from the Matrix. Pixie might have been the only exception since she was still the same quiet Pixie he remembered from the ship. Pixie and her friends hadn't been as culture shocking as the rest of Zion had been for Neo.

"So, what really brings all of you here?" Pixie asked, scraping out a huge, flat bottomed funnel of its blood red contents. "And why were guys holding Wheeler like that? What happened?"

The funnel's contents, something Pixie had called "_para_-red" or "flag red," looked like dried up clay and was in the process of being placed into its own flat bottomed flask. One of her friends had asked her for some of the dried out clay, sounding very glad that Pixie was making it in her little at-home lab. Pixie wound up explaining that "flag red" was a dye that, if used correctly, could leave fabrics a very bright red. She usually made it, along with other dyes, to bring to Rain since she worked with textiles but she shared with her friends since it wasn't hard to make.

"Wheeler was fighting in the officer's mess and we needed to get him out of there so he could cool off," Conall, matter of factly, stated. "We figured he wouldn't go ballistic if we brought him back home to you."

Nearly dropping the plastic funnel she'd been holding, Pixie gave Wheeler a questioning stare. He gave her a half hearted grin, scratching the back of his neck with his left hand in a nervous sort of way. Pixie had never known Wheeler to fight--- The whole thing with Hawk was an exception. ---with anyone since he wasn't the kind of person who randomly started fights. It took a lot to goad Wheeler into fighting and she figured it was safe to assume he wasn't fighting with anyone from the _Shatterpoint_'s crew. He got along well with everyone he worked it, or so it seemed to Pixie anyway.

"Conall is grossly exaggerating," Wheeler, quickly, countered. "I wasn't fighting with anyone. He just happened to catch me talking, loudly, with one of the officers from another ship, that's all."

"I thought you didn't lie to Pix," Adoh commented. "Why aren't you telling her what really happened?"

"How about because nothing happened and it was all in your imagination?" Wheeler suggested.

"Then we all must have really overactive imaginations, Wheeler, because we all saw what happened today," Conall pointed out. "It would be easier on you if you just owned up to it instead of lying to your poor Pixie since she probably thinks you were down there for just your crew meeting."

With an exasperated sigh, Wheeler explained, "After the meeting was over, Elan asked me to stick around for a while. He said he needed to talk to me about something important. Turned out he needed another person to get in on this card game he was having. I wound up playing cards with him, Conall, Adoh and a couple of other people."

"It was Tigris from my ship, _The Crystal Star_, Renward from the _Shadow Hunter_, Castor and Pollux from _The Paradise Snare_," Conall filled in, smirking.

"Either way," Wheeler continued. "Elan decided to start talking about who he thought was the hottest girl, our age in the fleet, and, of course, everyone else had to get their two cents in. Thing was, Elan said I wasn't allowed to throw in my opinion because of…well…he said something I'm not going to repeat in mixed company because I was taught it was rude."

Shaking his head, Conall interjected, "Because Wheeler's here and I don't want him after me, I won't put it like Elan did but Elan, basically, implied that Wheeler is under the influence of your feminine whiles. That's how you get him to do whatever it is you want him to do."

The other teens in the room started to laugh, except for Pixie. Her face turned a very bright shade of red; almost as red as the dried out clayish substance she was no focusing all her attention on. Her blushing made her friends laugh harder still. Neo had learned, in the few months he'd known Pixie, that she embarrassed easily and that her face being bright red was almost normal for her.

"Be that as it may," Wheeler continued, trying to speak over the sounds of his friends laughing. "Everyone laughed and ignored me for a while. Then Castor decided that he really needed to know my opinion on who the hottest girl our age in the fleet was. I said you, Pix, and things sort of went downhill from there."

With a laugh, Adoh finished, "Because of Wheeler's answer, Castor and his brother, Pollux, decided that what Elan had said was right and really started to get on his back, especially Castor. This big argument broke out and might have turned ugly if not for my sister and Ngaio."

Adoh pointed across the table to where his twin and Ngaio, his generally steady girlfriend, were sitting laughing like a pair of mad hyenas. Pixie opened her mouth to ask why they'd been in the Officer's Mess and why they'd bothered to get involved in the situation Wheeler had found himself in but, at the last minute, decided against it. That was a can of worms she didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. Sure the pair were among her closest friends but, sometimes, she didn't want to know why they did the things they did. It would probably just make her blush redder and make the pair laugh harder.

"So there wasn't really a fight?" Pixie, instead, asked "It seems like it was more a verbal altercation than anything else. Why would say there was a fight if there wasn't?"

"Well, technically speaking, it was just an argument but you should have seen how mad Wheeler got at Castor. I thought he was going to kill him right there," Conall admitted. "Besides, is there really a difference between a fight and an argument? Aisling's right, Pix, sometimes you get too hung up on the little things. Not everything has to be exact, you know."

"I was not going to kill Castor," Wheeler cut in, before Pixie could answer Conall's question. "I was merely explaining to him the right way to talk about ladies."

"And by explaining you actually mean you were going to beat the stuffing out of him," Conall interjected. "Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen you get that mad and you knew he was only joking around with you."

Wheeler, who was known for his even temper and placid disposition, threw a glare towards the utterly relaxed looking Conall. Pixie, who'd put the red stained funnel into a sink to be cleaned later, could not figure out how Wheeler and Conall managed to get along civilly. Her current theory, one of many, was that they got along because their respective "female friends," she and Aisling, were about as close as sisters without actually being related. Her other theory was that they just like to annoy each other---one of those guy things Pixie had never been able to understand.

Whatever the case was, Wheeler and Conall were never going to be the best of friends. Conall like to push Wheeler's buttons far too much and, though Wheeler did his best not to show it, Pixie was sure it bothered him. Not in the way Hawk's teasing use to bother Wheeler. This was just bothering for the sake of bothering instead of bothering for the sake of getting Wheeler to go away or something like that. Pixie, in actuality, didn't really understand why Hawk liked to make Wheeler miserable either.

At the moment, that didn't matter. Instead, as the laughing died down, she let the conversation drift to whatever topic it was heading for next. Pixie only hoped that the next topic wasn't as detrimental as the previous one.


	7. No More Sad Songs

AN: Hiya! First, I apologize for how long this update is. I couldn't think of a good place to split it so I left it in one long piece. I hope this is a good enough resolution for what took place between Pixie and Hawk. Second, I know Clay Aiken isn't exactly the coolest of singers but, when I, initially, wrote this, my sister was really into Clay Aiken and it was all she listened to. I guess her music kind of crept into this story and stayed with this update. Thankfully, her taste in music has changed since then. Anywho, thanks to everyone who put my little misadventure on alert! I really appreciate it. Remember, I'm open to any and every review…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know how I'm doing!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Haven't you heard  
You are no longer respected  
You are formally rejected  
From the one you hurt…" (From "No More Sad Songs" by Clay Aiken)

Pixie knew, in advance, that the day of Hawk's trial was not going to be a good one. Not for her and, hopefully, not for him either. Pixie knew that part of her whole panic attack issue was something called "future forward" fear. The anticipation that came with her not being able to foresee or control the future ahead of her, that was the only way Pixie could describe it to Wheeler when he'd asked her what "future forward" fear was. The thing was, for Pixie, it wasn't just her future that she worried about.

After what had happened to her and her crew, she now worried about the futures all her friends faced when they all went back to work. She'd never tell anyone--- other than Wheeler, of course ---about that fact. Partly because she knew Aisling would give her the tough love answer and tell her just to deal with and get over the fact she couldn't control the future. The other part had to do with something she'd said before they'd all shipped out of Zion for the first time. She'd made the rather bold prediction that they were all going to survive the war and celebrate its end together. With everything that had happened, Pixie didn't feel as confident about what she'd said as she had back then. It was more a constant worry about all the "whatifs" that could happen.

It was a fear Pixie knew she was going to have to not only master but get over if she ever wanted the panic attacks to get under control. She'd never be able to work if she spent her days afraid of what was going to happen in the future. Well, the parts of her future she has no control over. Pixie knew she had to come back to the realization, as she had when she was just a kid living in the Matrix, that there were things she couldn't control. Those were the things she had to learn to accept, no matter how much she didn't like them or how much they scared her.

However, there were things she could control and, Pixie knew, those were the things she had to hang on to. One of those things was the fact Pixie could decide not to be afraid. She had to decide not to let her panic attacks run her life. Easier said than done most days of the week. There were just some days when it was very hard to ignore the skin crawling, heart racing, all consuming fear that came with the panic attacks she had.

The day of Hawk's trial, despite the fact Pixie knew Wheeler and her friends would be coming with her, was one such day. She'd woken earlier than normal, her heart already going a mile a minute even as she climbed out of bed. The feeling only got worse--- Her skin starting to feel uncomfortably tight and crawling at the same time. ---as she tried to choke down something to eat.

No matter how hard she tried to ignore the panic building in her mind, Pixie found she couldn't will this panic attack away. She could try to hide the fact she was freaking out, since no one except Wheeler could tell when she was freaking out, but that wasn't an option this time. She couldn't very well give testimony against Hawk when she wasn't even sure she could speak in complete sentences and she felt as if her entire body was shaking like a leaf. It had taken Wheeler talking her through the attack for the panic attack to finally grind to a slow halt and for Pixie to feel up to heading down to where Hawk's trial was going to be held. Pixie could only hope that she had the physical and mental strength to hold herself together during the trial and not freak out when it was most important.

"For the official record, please state your given name, current position, and ship?" asked the councilman Pixie assumed was presiding over Hawk's trial.

Pixie looked around the wide room, trying not to acknowledge the knot of fear that had settled itself in her stomach and wishing that she'd been able to bring her friends into the chamber with her. The room, meant to hold all the members of the fleet if necessary, was vastly empty. The closed trial had required only the members of the crew directly impacted by Hawk's actions be present, without any outside interferences. The crews of both the _Logos_ and the _Shatterpoint_ had given their testimony earlier in the week so their presences were deemed unnecessary now. That was something that upset Pixie as, if the crew of the _Shatterpoint_ had been allowed to sit in at the trial, Wheeler would have been sitting someplace in the vast emptiness behind her.

At a long metal table, Pixie stood while Morpheus, Neo, and Trinity sat. They'd already given their testimonies, leaving Pixie for last since she was the only one who could, actually, account for Hawk's actions. The others only saw the after effects of Hawk's attack but could give varied accounts on what Cypher had done. That was something Pixie, who'd been stuck in the medical bay that day with Hawk, could not do.

Hawk, flanked by two frighteningly large guards, sat at a separate table a good distance away from Pixie and the others. Despite the guards that stood at his side, Hawk looked completely at ease with himself and his surroundings. He had the look of someone who was convinced of his own innocence and going through the trial was just a formality for him.

Pixie took a deep breath before speaking, trying to calm herself down so she didn't stammer when she went to speak. That would have shown just how nervous she actually was and Pixie had decided that she didn't want to show the Council just how nervous she actually was. There was that fact and the fact she really didn't want to give Hawk the satisfaction of seeing her visibly nervous. She wanted him to see her as someone who was cool, calm, and collected. Someone who was not afraid to speak up for herself in the situation she'd found herself in.

Inside, Pixie was barely controlling the panic she was feeling. Her skin felt too tight and uncomfortable, one of the signs she was going to freak out. The only thing that was keeping her from actually having a panic attack was the fact Wheeler and her friends had come with her and were waiting for the trial to end. Wheeler had told her before she'd gone in to face Hawk once more--- Pixie wanted to say he'd ordered her but that wasn't actually true. Wheeler never ordered her to do anything. ---to be strong and to show Hawk he'd only slowed her down. He hadn't stopped her despite the fact he'd tried to break her back and she was dealing with panic attacks.

"My name is Pixie, sir. I, currently, work under Captain Morpheus as the resident Medic-in-Training on the _Nebuchadnezzar_," she stated, keeping her voice as respectful as she possibly could.

Hawk yawned, rather loudly, and asked, "Can we get all this formal stuff over with fast? We all know, I'm innocent. I get you have to do this to prove it but it's boring and I have other things I could be doing."

All eyes turned to Hawk, his outburst not only disturbing but highly disrespectful given the circumstances. Pixie only sighed and shook her head. Hawk had never been one to just sit and wait. He'd always wanted the quick and easy way, even when that way could cause more trouble than it was worth.

"Given the evidence Pixie has against you, Hawk, an innocent verdict is not assured. It would do you well to wait and see what the Council has to say," Morpheus informed the impatient young man.

Turning away from Hawk, he added, "My apologizes to the Council. Please continue."

"And what is the nature of your relationship with the accused?" questioned another member of the Council.

Pixie grew thoughtfully quiet for a moment, biting her lower lip as she tried to figure out how to best answer the question set before her. There was, really, no easy way to answer the question. Her answer, inherently, didn't make sense but, then, several of her friendships had come out of the same nonsensical situation.

"We knew---I guess the more appropriate phrase would be that we thought we knew ---each other in the Matrix. We grew up in the same group home and were friends, I suppose. He was unplugged several weeks before I was and that friendship continued here, for a time anyway," Pixie started.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, since she disliked this part of the story, Pixie continued, "While we were in the Academy together, he decided that he was much too important to talk to someone like me. After that, we didn't see each other; much less speak to each other until we were both assigned to the _Nebuchadnezzar_.

"To sum things up, I guess you could describe the nature of our relationship, prior to him trying to cripple me with a metal plate, was one that went from good friendship to barely restrained hostilities," Pixie finished, hoping her explanation had made some kind of sense.

"Your honors," Hawk shouted, interrupting the next question that was being directed towards Pixie. "She's lying. Why don't you tell them how you sent your little boyfriend after me at the temple gathering. We saw each other then, didn't we?"

Hawk snickered as a look of utter horror crossed Pixie's face. To Pixie, there seemed to be no rhyme or reason as to why Hawk would bring that situation up now. That night, he'd been just another face in the huge crowd that had gathered at the temple. It was only the next day, when she'd reported to her ship, that she'd found it was Hawk that Wheeler had gone after in her defense. Before then, there had been no way of her knowing that it had been Hawk who'd accosted her at the temple gathering.

"Is this true, Pixie?" Pixie found herself being asked.

Pixie didn't make it practice to curse--- She "replaced" curse words with other words instead. ---as most of the fleet seemed to be fond of doing. If she did curse, however, she figured she have several choice words for Hawk and his comment. Since she didn't curse, Pixie heaved an annoyed and frustrated sigh. She had to think of way not only to defend herself against Hawk's accusation but try not to implicate Wheeler too badly in the event Hawk was referring to.

"I must admit that his words have a ring of truth," Pixie, nervously, admitted. "But it's a very small ring. It's true that both Hawk and I were present at the temple gathering he's referring to. I went to get a beverage and someone…well…if you'll pardon my phrasing, made a very unwanted and impolite pass at me. My friend--- the boyfriend he's talking about ---took exception to Hawk's advances, though both my friend and I didn't know it was Hawk at the time, and decided to come to my defense. Hawk too exception and struck my friend first."

Sighing, she, unwillingly, added, "If you want my friend to verify my story, he's waiting for me outside the Council Chamber."

Part of Pixie's mind continued to wonder if it was wise to even drag Wheeler into the situation she found herself in now. Wheeler hadn't had anything to do with the crimes Hawk was being tired for. The fight at the temple gathering was almost more than a year ago, before Neo had been freed and before Hawk had decided he'd had enough of Morpheus.

The other part of her mind was afraid that she'd somehow made a huge mistake by telling the Council that particular story, even though Hawk, himself, had brought it up. There was a chance that they could somehow feel sorry for Hawk and lessen the charges brought against him. Perhaps that was why Hawk had decided to dredge that story up from their shared past. It could have been a ploy to earn him some measure of pity from the Council.

Pixie's nerves weren't helped when, instead of facing another question, the Councilors started speaking to one another in hurried whispers. Standing as she was, only added to her discomfort with the situation. Sitting might have helped her some; leaving the room would have been even better.

Since the latter wasn't about to happen any time soon, Pixie tried to find other places to focus her attention. Without thinking, she looked over at Hawk. The young man gave her a rather large smile, pleased with the situation he'd forced her into. Looking in Hawk's direction--- While it did manage to turn her nerves into something like annoyance ---was not something Pixie figured she should be doing. Getting annoyed was about as helpful as panicking, in her opinion. Instead, the young woman turned her towards the others sitting at her table.

"Did I say something wrong? What happened?" Pixie asked, in her own hurried whisper.

Morpheus looked at Pixie and answered, "I will not pretend to understand why Hawk wanted to implicate Wheeler in this situation but it was probably not your brightest moment elaborating on the situation Hawk brought up. Perhaps, the Council is taking into account Hawk's history of violent behavior. It is hard to tell, given what Hawk is trying to imply about you and Wheeler."

Pixie felt herself physical flinch at Morpheus's words. She now felt worse about getting her closest friend involved in this situation. The young woman knew that Wheeler would stick up for her and defend her actions if it came down to him speaking before the Council. He was always good for things like that.

After a few very long, tense moments, the Councilors turned their attention back towards Pixie and Hawk. Hawk crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, seeming more annoyed than he'd previously been. Pixie, for her part, tried to force herself to stand up straight--- Not an easy feat all things considered. ---and fight back against the butterflies in her stomach.

"Though we've heard several accountings of what happened on the _Nebuchadnezzar_," an older Councilor asked in a very serious tone. "We have not yet heard your account of what happened, Pixie. We are now asking you to give an accounting of Hawk's actions against both yourself and your crew. Will you be able to do that for us?"

After, mentally, promising herself this was going to be the last time she was going to tell anyone this story, Pixie answered, "Members of the Council, I can, to the best of my abilities and memory, give you an account of what Hawk did to me."

After her return to Zion, Pixie had rapidly learned that anyone with a war story, even one like hers, was going to be asked to tell the story more than once. Torrent had said that people, especially those who weren't part of the Resistance, wanted to hear the stories told by people who were out there fighting for everyone's freedom. Pixie had been asked to tell her own story more than once and she'd, frankly, gotten sick of telling it. Every time she had to tell it, it was like living those events once again and she didn't want to have to do that ever again.

It hurt her, physically and mentally, to relive what Hawk had done to her. Though she was avoiding having to go to the fleet appointed psychologist like the plague, Pixie had come to the conclusion that dwelling on what he had done to her could only make her panic attacks worse. She wanted to get over what Hawk had done to her just as she wanted to get over her panic attacks. Talking about it, didn't seem to be helping the situation any. The less time she spent thinking about it and about him, the better off she would be.

Truthfully, Pixie knew she'd been trying to get along with Hawk just to keep the peace on her ship. She didn't want to be friends with him, didn't even want to try going down that road again. In her very humble opinion, Pixie had everything she needed--- a family to belong to, a few very good friends to confide in, a job she loved despite its inherent dangers, and a better than best friend, or a boyfriend if one chose to call him that, in Wheeler. Even thinking about trying to fit Hawk into all of that would only disrupt everything she had.

Things would just be easier, she decided, as she told the Council everything that had transpired the day Hawk decided to betray the Resistance, to just leave everything about Hawk behind. He'd always be part of her past but he didn't have to be a part of her future. She'd finally learned that lesson, even though the price for such a lesson was very high.

"I knocked Hawk out using the strongest anesthetic I was able to get my hands on but, thanks to the injuries to my back, I was unable to make an attempt to stop Cypher," Pixie finished, wrapping up her narrative.

Her last statement hung in the air, causing an oppressive silence to fall in the large chamber. Pixie knew there was little else she could say about that day and what had transpired and the Council seemed too stunned to actually respond. They hadn't fallen into such a deep, contemplative silence after hearing Hawk's side of the story.

"That is some tale, young lady. Your official medical record, taken by a Barriss on board the _Shatterpoint_, appears to be congruent with the narrative you have just presented us with." stated the eldest of all the Councilmen. What I would like to know is, what you consider to be the proper punishment for Hawk's crimes?"

"I was lead to believe," Pixie stated, after staring at Morpheus and the others with a confused expression. "That it was not up to me to decide what was to be done with Hawk."

"That's Captain Morpheus talking," the eldest man stated. "You're obviously a free thinking individual; otherwise you wouldn't be here, so I'd like to know what you think. Perhaps you and I are thinking along the same lines."

Pixie must have looked as baffled as she felt since the older man quietly chuckled. She had been expecting to come in, state her case, and have the Council come to a decision about Hawk's guilt or innocence. No one had bothered to mention that she would have input in said decision.

The young woman looked questioningly at Morpheus, Trinity, and Neo, trying to get them to help her understand what was going on. Her replies were silent and not exactly the most helpful. This, it seemed, was supposed to be a decision she made all on her own. The others weren't going to give her their input on what she should say or do. This was all up to her now.

"I've never been to a trial here before and I'm afraid I don't really know what sort of penalties are fitting for different crimes," Pixie explained. "I could say that Hawk should be thrown in whatever your equivalent of jail is and be left there to rot but that wouldn't be very fair. Maybe there's a faint chance he can be rehabilitated, and become a productive member of Zion once again. Then again, there may not be...I'm not sure. If he is able to ever work on a ship again, though, I don't want him on a ship with me."

Pixie hadn't wanted her idea of punishment for Hawk to seem cruel, though she knew he deserved a harsher punishment for his crimes. All Pixie really wanted was for whatever connection there was between the pair of them to be severed completely. Her life was her life and his life, whatever its nature, was his life. Two separate entities never to be entwined again.

The young woman was knocked out of her own reverie by someone tugging at the sleeve of the sweater sleeves she was wearing. Wheeler had said she should have gone without the covering on her shoulders--- just to show Hawk and the Council her bruises ---but Pixie had staunchly refused. She didn't want her bruises stared at anymore than they had to be.

"They are going to need a moment to deliberate, Pixie. I believe you can sit," Morpheus pointed out.

Pixie gave her captain a sheepish smile and, gratefully, lowered herself into the chair next to him. She'd been standing ramrod straight for some time--- longer than she had in some time ---and she was only starting to notice her back being stiff. It worried the young woman a little that she was becoming use to her back being sore. She didn't want to be in pain all the time but she also didn't want to inadvertently hurt herself because her back wasn't sore.

"What do you think will happen to Hawk?" Pixie wanted to know.

She wasn't sure what the punishment policy in Zion was. She knew the Council existed---someone had to run the city and one of the Councilors, now retired, had stepped in to help her when she was having a problem getting her application to work on a ship accepted ---but she'd never had to deal with the judicial part of it. Her and her friends weren't the type to get into the kind of trouble that merited the involvement of the Military Police in Zion.

"Our prison is on one of the lower levels of Zion, under heavy guard. It is for those who have tried to commit crimes against others here or within the fleet. The odds are good that Hawk will be sent there for what he's done," Morpheus answered.

"It's less than he deserves," snapped Trinity, just loud enough for the others at the table to hear. "After knowing what Cypher planned on doing and not telling anyone about it."

"Speaking of sir, I know this is an in opportune time but what are we going to do for an Operator?" Pixie, softly, asked.

Morpheus seemed to be about to answer but all conversation was cut off when the Councilors turned their attention back to the two parties at their respective tables. Both Pixie and Hawk stood, neither looking across the room at the other.

"In the light of the…uniqueness…of this situation, is there anything else either of you would like to add before we render a verdict?" one of the Councilors asked.

"I would," Hawk, quickly, stated. "I'm being unjustly accused here. The only crime I committed was not buying into Morpheus's whole prophesy garbage. Believing in something different is not a crime, is it? This whole thing is one big misunderstanding, that's all. Pixie and the others are just blowing it way out of proportion. Can't you see they're trying to turn me into some kind of scapegoat?"

Pixie knew she was going to have to say something now, despite the fact she didn't really want to say anything more than she already had. She felt she had said enough to keep her own character guilt free. With Hawk's little speech, and his attempt to sway any member of the Council onto his side, Pixie knew her hand had been forced. She was going to have to say something to counter Hawk.

"What any of us believe doesn't matter in this situation. I'm not sure it's a big deal that he doesn't believe like I believe. I openly admit that, when I started working on the _Nebuchadnezzar_, I was a skeptic just like Hawk. Unlike Hawk, though, I didn't grow fed up with the situation and try to sell out Zion to the Machines. What we believe or don't believe shouldn't be the question anyway, since not everyone believes the same thing. Actions only should be judged here and, Hawk, you're not acting like an innocent man. No innocent person would have done half the things you've done," Pixie stated, far more calmly than she would have suspected she was capable of.

Sighing, there was really nothing else for her to say. At least, there was nothing else Pixie could think of that she could say. Not one who was a big talker to begin with, this whole event had left the young woman tired and speechless.

"Given the information we have received from those gathered and those who have spoken before us earlier, we find the young man known as Hawk guilty for the crimes of treason of the highest order and for assault on a fellow crew member. For these crimes, he is to serve a life sentence in the stockades," the eldest Council member announced.

"You can't do this!" Hawk exclaimed, as the guards started to take him away.

Apparently, he was sticking by his claim of innocence. He had placed the blame for his crimes on the people he had perpetrated them on. Nothing was his fault and, in Pixie's mind, that was very typical Hawk.

"The rest of you are free to go. This trial is adjourned," one of the Councilmen stated.

Pixie got up, preparing to leave and meet Wheeler and her friends who'd been waiting for her outside the Council Chamber. Aisling had mentioned something about dinner and something else to take Pixie's mind off of the trial, no matter the outcome. It was her medical opinion that Pixie would need both a distraction and her friends in order to deal with her ordeal.

"Are you alright to go, Pix?" Trinity wanted to know, watching the young woman.

"I'll be ok. Wheeler and my friends are waiting for me outside," she, quietly, answered.

The enormity of what had just taken place had yet to sink in and its implications were still being processed. Aisling might have been right--- Not that Pixie was ever going to let her know that ---when she said that distractions were what she was going to need. If left to her own thoughts, Pixie was more than a little concerned about what could happen.

"You know where Neo and I are if you're looking for someone, right?" she questioned.

Pixie nodded slowly, not really willing to pay her elder crew members a visit. She wasn't sure what state she'd find them in and that was a situation she was looking to avoid entirely. Especially what happened with Sparks and Chian.

With a small wave, she made her way up the stairs and out of the Council Chamber. Pixie had hoped that she was going to feel better after the trial but that didn't seem to be the case. Instead, for some reason she couldn't understand, she felt like she'd just done something terribly wrong.


	8. Vindicated

AN: I haven't fallen off the face of the earth…yet! I'm still studying for my Lab Tech License exam and that's kind of killed every creative thought in my brain. It's like a constant uphill fight, even when I'm just editing things. I'm going to apologize in advance there are any mistakes in the psychology in this chapter. I'm not a psychologist, nor have I ever taken psychology. I came from one of those colleges where the Biology majors didn't get along with the Psychology majors. Most of us Biology majors didn't even take Intro to Psychology, to tell the truth, because the two departments didn't like each other. Personally, I took Intro to Philosophy instead. The psychology I used has been researched as going along with panic attack disorders so I hope I did alright. If anyone is still out there reading this, thanks for taking the time to do so! I really appreciate you sticking with this story and I! Any and every review…good, bad, and indifferent….is appreciated. Just let me know what you think.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"…I am selfish  
I am wrong  
I am right  
I swear I'm right  
I swear I knew it all along

And I am flawed…" (From "Vindicated" by Dashboard Confessional)

"Pix, what did the doctor have to say?" Wheeler asked, as Pixie slipped out of the exam room, her personal computer in the palm of her hand, and headed through the waiting room without bothering to look at anyone around her.

"Nothing," she answered, her voice tight and tense as she shoved her computer into her right pocket with her hands quickly following after it.

Almost chasing after Pixie as she exited the "office," Wheeler was pretty sure something had happened but she didn't want to tell him exactly what. There was no way something hadn't happened for her to sound the way she did. He couldn't tell if Pixie was angry or upset, though. Maybe it was both, Wheeler wasn't sure.

Wheeler had gone down with Pixie to the fleet psychologist for her mandated appointment. It was protocol after any "traumatic situations" for the surviving members of the crew in question to pay a visit to the psychologist and talk about what had happened. For some reason, it was felt that talking about the situation with a complete stranger made it easier to deal with.

According to what Wheeler had heard from others, it was the psychologist's job to decide whether or not a person was fit to return to a ship after their evaluation. The same people had told Wheeler that, more often than not, the evaluations were just for show and almost everyone always got clearance to go back to work. There were a rare few people who didn't get to go back to their post for reasons no one really liked to talk about.

Pixie was well aware of the fact she had to go see the psychologist before she could even think about getting her job back but that didn't mean she had to like it. Wheeler knew, as most of her friends did, that Pixie wasn't a fan of the field of psychology. She thought it was a "soft science," unlike the medical sciences she and Aisling practiced. Medical sciences were real, hands on sciences. Psychology, well, that wasn't a real science since it only involved talking. At least that was the feeling shared by all of the medical students in the Academy when talking about their peers in the psychology department. For some people, that feeling lingered on after graduation.

Wheeler had gone down with Pixie, half for moral support and half because he knew she might leave if she was so inclined. Pixie had told him, more than once, that she really didn't want to go visit the psychologist even though she knew she had to in order to keep her job. It was only one appointment to the fleet psychologist and Wheeler was well aware of the fact that Pixie was having a hard enough time with that. He sincerely hoped that it was as everyone had told…just a token visit for show and she didn't have to go back again.

Apparently, whatever was said during her hour long appointment was enough to get under Pixie's skin in the worst way. Though he'd only been staying with Pixie a few weeks- his captain had been asked to give testimony about how they'd found Pixie's ship and the situation surrounding those events. Not that Wheeler was complaining. He enjoyed spending worry and work free time with Pixie. -he'd picked up on a few things about his better than best friend.

One was when she was having a panic attack or on the verge of having one. The _Shatterpoint_'s medic, Barriss, had said that there were no outward signs of a panic attack, despite what the person having them might feel. You couldn't tell a panic attack sufferer from any other person in Zion, technically speaking. Wheeler, though, had figured out when Pixie was having an attack or when she was close to having one, at the very least. He couldn't say how or why he'd picked up this strange skill. It was just something he was able to do, much to his own surprise.

Barriss had ordered Wheeler, since it was plainly obvious Pixie had declared him her "safe" person during her bouts of panic, that he was to treat Pixie with tough love during a panic attack. In short, he was simply to tell her to "get over it" and ignore her until she calmed down. If he tried babying her- being gentle with her -her attacks would only get worse. It was only through strong medication and tough love that Pixie would get better. There was no other "cure" for what was ailing her.

Pixie, being Pixie and more than a little thick headed when she wanted to be, refused to take any medication for her panic attacks. She'd said, as a medic, she knew the side effects of taking the anti-anxiety medication and she didn't like any them. She didn't want to take medication that would make her perennially tired or clumsy. As it was, she could be a klutz at times, without the help of medication.

She had told Wheeler that, during one of her attacks that she feared the drugs would mess with her brain chemistry in such a way that it would change her behavior in the Matrix. If she was to go back to her old job- When she went back to her old job, Pixie would almost always amend -she wanted to be as close as possible to what she'd been before she'd started getting panic attacks. She didn't want to be a klutzy burden to those around her and wind up accidently putting everyone she worked with in danger because of some mind altering medication she was on.

Wheeler, no medic but very fond of the dark haired medic he lived with, had said that they'd figure something out to help her so she didn't have to take medication. For his part, he couldn't bring himself to use tough love in order to help Pixie through her attacks. Telling her to just "get over it" and walk away from her just seemed too mean of a thing to do to her while she freaked out.

Instead of using tough love, Wheeler found that hugging Pixie very tightly and talking to her helped her through the attacks. Alright, it was coddling her but it was the best he could do and it seemed to help Pixie so he figured it was alright. Once he started bear hugging her, her attacks would start to get shorter and Wheeler figured that was a very good thing.

Pixie had assured him, though, that the hugs weren't coddling her in any way, shape, or form. Putting her in a bear hug, holding her so tight that she almost couldn't was actually helping her fight her panic attack off. The closeness he was forcing her into helped to decrease her metabolic rate and lower her pulse rate back to normal levels. Combined with her being able to focus on his voice, as he assured her that she was going to be fine, the hugs were an almost perfect non-medicine related course of treatment.

What she was going to do once they went their separate ways- she, possibly, back to her job and he back to the _Shatterpoint_ -was something they had yet to discuss. Both Pixie and Wheeler knew their solution to Pixie's panic attacks was only a temporary one. They were eventually going to have to go their separate ways, even if it was only he her in Zion to work on the _Shatterpoint_ while she, miserably, cooled her heels.

That was the other reason why Wheeler was keen on Pixie keeping her appointment with the psychologist. Maybe he had a more permanent solution to her panic attacks. Not that he didn't enjoy the fact Pixie was actually allowing him to hug her all the time. It was more a necessity so Pixie could gain back some of her independence. Something she was going to need if she went back to work.

The walk back to Pixie's small home, though it was more their home than Pixie's alone, seemed to take longer than it normally did. Pixie had been staring at the ground the entire time, watching her battered boots as they shuffled along the catwalk that served as the sidewalks in Zion. The meeting with the psychologist had left a bad taste in her mouth and it wasn't going away. It was that sour sort of taste that lingered in the back of your throat for hours after you'd eaten something or gotten really sick and thrown up bile.

She'd been told by the medical doctor she'd been forced into seeing- Pixie had it in her mind she'd just use Aisling as her doctor and that was that. Since Aisling was her friend, that hadn't happened. She'd wound up visiting a different medical doctor. -that the session with the psychologist was supposed to help her with the grieving process. Theoretically, it was supposed to make her feel better or comforted or something like that. Instead of making her feel better, though, it only managed to make her feel worse.

Not just worse in a physical sense but in a mental sense as well which was more annoying to Pixie. After all her years in the Matrix, despite the fact they were just virtual years, she'd gotten use to dealing with feeling physically ill. Feeling mentally ill, well, that was something new to the young woman and it was a feeling she wasn't enjoying in the least. She almost preferred feeling physically ill, as odd as that sounded.

Wheeler closed the door behind her, making Pixie jump a good ten feet in the air. The former pitcher gave Pixie a curious look but she seemed not to notice it. Instead, she sighed and wandered over to the battered couch at the far end of what passed for her kitchen, living room, and de-facto lab. Looking a bit world weary, she flopped onto the couch, frowning when she realized that she's caused her back to smart a bit.

"What happened in there that's got you so tense, Pix?" Wheeler asked, coming to sit next to Pixie on the couch. "Did he say something to you?"

Pixie opened her mouth to say "nothing" but, looking at Wheeler sitting patiently next to her, she changed her mind. After the whole incident with Hawk and everything that had happened after it, Wheeler was on the short list of people Pixie was totally sure she could trust. There were some days she was convinced he was the only person on the list of people she could trust in Zion. It wasn't paranoia that Pixie felt. It was more her own being cautious after what had happened though the psychologist had called it uglier, more frightening names.

"This," she answered, pulling her small computer out of her pocket and opening the first file that came up to show Wheeler. "This is what's bothering me."

For a moment, Wheeler didn't understand what Pixie was showing him. To him, an outsider in her science based world, what the file said meant next to nothing to him. It was just a lot of technical jargon that he knew made perfect sense to science minded Pixie. The former pitcher just saw it as a lot of really long words thrown together in complicated looking sentences.

As he started to scroll through the message, reading through it a second and third time, Wheeler found a handful of words that he understood. They were the words that Wheeler figured upset Pixie the most. Even though she was a medic and scientist by training, she was human. Pixie had gotten very good at compartmentalizing her mind, only dealing with the parts related to science and ignoring the rest because of her job.

That was partly why going to the psychologist had upset her. It was easier, for Pixie anyway, to deal with the logical things since those were the things she understood best. The part of her mind that was causing her panic attacks- the irrational part that was just a scared nineteen year old -was something she wasn't as comfortable with.

The fact Pixie was very comfortable with logical things but more emotional things confused her should have bothered Wheeler but it didn't. He'd decided, once he and Pixie went from being best friends to better than best friends, that nothing about Pixie was going to bother him. Not that things about Pixie ever did. Where people like Hawk and, sometimes, their friends were bothered by her sometimes strange behavior, he wasn't. Pixie was Pixie and that was that. She was who was she was, no matter how hard that was to figure out sometimes.

"But you said you knew you were having panic attacks," Wheeler stated, looking away from the screen.

"No, that part I knew," she countered with a small frown. "I knew I'd been having panic attacks since the attack on my ship. I figured that's when those started. It's the rest of the stuff in there that's bothering me."

"Pix," Wheeler pointed out. "I don't know what you mean. I mean, this is all medical mumbo jumbo to me. I don't really understand it."

"After one meeting, after talking to him for just an hour, he decided I have a schizoid personality disorder," Pixie mumbled. "One meeting and he decides that I'm completely incapable of having any kind of functioning relationship with anyone. He says I've been permanently damaged by the fact I was a really huge introvert in the Matrix. Basically, I'm what happens when a kid never gets over her shyness. I can't deal with other people because of the Matrix and circumstances afterwards."

Wheeler put his arm around Pixie, not letting her pull away from him though he knew that was what she wanted to do because she was uptight and stressed. He wasn't sure what disorder she was talking about but he didn't feel it was right for someone who'd only known her for an hour to say something like that to her. Pixie had admitted to him that she'd been damaged by things in her past, especially the aunt and uncle who'd raised her for a time, but that was her saying it. Not some random stranger who barely even knew her.

"I know it's harder for you to make friends and stuff but you have all of us and we're not going anywhere. Even if the others did, I'm not going anywhere," Wheeler stated. "I don't care about the mental scars you have. I just wish there was something I could do to help fix them."

"According to that idiot doctor, there's nothing anyone can do except take a little of this and a little of that," Pixie said, showing Wheeler the list of medications the doctor wanted her to take. "That along with weekly therapy sessions will fix me up...eventually. He couldn't say when or if it would work at all."

"So all this guy could say there was something wrong with you but he couldn't give you any better answer than to just give you medication so you'd be all foggy and not have a clue what's going on," Wheeler surmised. "How is that even helpful?"

With a sigh, Pixie answered, "It isn't, really. The figuring is that the medication will dull both my panic attacks and everything else about me so I'll be more 'open' to treatment for this other disorder. I really don't want to take any medication, Wheeler. I was on so much medication before I got here that I'm surprised I was even able to find my way to the computer in my room or across the street to talk to you guys."

"I don't think you need medication for the panic attacks, Pix. You're dealing with them really well without taking anything for them," Wheeler started.

"That's because you're here and you're helping me control them," Pixie cut in. "When you go back to work, things may be just a little bit harder."

"We'll figure something out for when both of us go back to work," Wheeler assured Pixie. "I thought you had asked Aisling about alternatives to medication for your panic attacks and she told you something you could do."

With a friendly sort of smile, Wheeler, carefully, added, "Though I wish you'd take something for your back. I know that's still bothering you."

"My back isn't the issue right now," Pixie, dismissively stated though she knew her back was an entire issue unto itself. "This idiot's evaluation is. I only went down there because I was just following orders and now he's going to give me a write up that's going to prevent me from going back to work."

"Why?" Wheeler asked. "Does this schizoid thing you supposedly have make you dangerous or something?"

The former pitcher remembered, back in his own Matrix days, that schizophrenia was a bad thing. Not a mental disorder anyone wanted to have because it sometimes made people violent. He couldn't see Pixie as a violent person- she'd never shown any sort of violent reaction to anything, even Hawk taunting her and, just in general, making her life miserable. -but then he also hadn't had the chance to spend a long time with her. Maybe that side of her was something that came out when he wasn't looking or when she worked in the Matrix or something.

"You're thinking of schizophrenia, aren't you?" Pixie asked, guessing at Wheeler's line of thought.

After he nodded, she explained, "Schizoid and schizophrenia are two totally different things. It's just unfortunate luck for me that the two have similar sounding names. I'm actually far from being dangerous since I'm supposed to have reduced emotional affect...whatever that means. I'm a real scientist. Not a fake one like this psychologist."

"But if you think psychologists are fake scientist, then why are you letting this get to you Pix?" Wheeler wanted to know.

Pixie shrugged and took a second to collect her thoughts. She wasn't entirely sure why the psychologist's words had bothered her so much. There was a vast difference, in her mind and the minds of anyone who worked as a proper scientist or medic in Zion, between a medic and a psychologist. Medics did actual work dealing with the body; not so much for psychologists who worked with the mind. Sure the mind and body were connected- the Matrix taught everyone that much -but students in either discipline didn't always care about that connection.

A lot of good natured- and some not so good natured, of course -ribbing took place between the medical students and the psychology students during their Academy days. Kids being kids was what the instructors called it since that's what they really were. They were just kids acting their age, even though it was Zion and not some school campus. According to what she'd heard, there was a long standing feud between the medics-scientists- since they tended to be the same person for some reason -and the psychology-behavioral science students. Each generation of students just continued the feud in their own way.

Pixie, herself, had never taken part in any of the ribbing or rough housing but she knew plenty of people who had. Aisling was one of the biggest ring leaders when it came instigating things between the departments. She always wanted to get Pixie involved but Pixie always declined, claiming she had to study or was busy with other work for other classes. Truth was, she just didn't want to get into trouble and risk her place in the program.

"I guess because I'm kind of angry he said something like that," Pixie admitted with a sigh. "One appointment is not enough to come up with something like that as a diagnosis."

After a very long pause, Wheeler brought up, "I don't want to pry, Pix, but didn't you already have a psychological evaluation. I remember Mace having Luminari give me one just after I started working on the _Shatterpoint_. He said it was procedure for any new person working on a ship to make sure we could handle the pressure of working on the ship."

Biting her lower lip- a gesture Pixie had been desperately trying to stop doing since she always thought it made her look young than her given age -the young woman thought back to her early days on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. She remembered spending a great deal of her time and energy training, both in the Construct and in the Real World. When she wasn't training, she was working in the medical bay, getting to know her surroundings and proper procedure and, basically, all things relevant to her post.

"Dozer- He was head medic on the _Nebuchadnezzar _when I got there. -might have but I don't really remember," Pixie, finally, answered. "I mean, I'm sure if it was protocol, Morpheus might have ignored it. In case you haven't noticed, Morpheus isn't big on following rules all the time. Not that I'm going to complain since he got me my job."

"You sure?" Wheeler asked, trying to make a point. "I thought it was something we all had to do."

"I'm almost sure, yeah. I mean if they did regular psych tests on my ship we might not be in this situation," Pixie countered with a small, sly grin. "I would have been diagnosed within weeks and stuck back in here cooling on my heels and waiting for news about you guys to come down."

Wheeler laughed, wondering why he even bothered to try and make points around Pixie who seemed to out think him without really thinking, "What if Morpheus did do the proper tests but ignored the results?"

Leaning against the back of the couch and, being careful since Pixie was still in his arms, Wheeler added, "He could have found out what that psychologist said is wrong with you but chose to ignore it because you're too smart or too valuable as a member of his crew…or both."

"Wheeler," Pixie countered, putting her head on his shoulder and giving him a sidelong look. "If Morpheus had followed regulations and done the tests, he would have noticed Cypher was a head case who regretted taking the red pill and Hawk was a narcissist with delusions of grandeur."

Returning her look with a curious one of his own and kissing the top of her head, Wheeler pointed out, "Are you sure you're not a psychologist because that sounded awful psychological to me?"

Pixie rolled her eyes and shook her head, stating, "I'm just trying to prove a point. Morpheus would have known those things if he'd done the tests like he was supposed to. We wouldn't be in this situation if he'd done the tests and found out those things."

"I don't know, Pix. I kind of like the situation we're in now," Wheeler teased, cuddling Pixie closer to him. "This situation suits me just fine."

"Wheeler!" Pixie exclaimed, somewhere between amused and frustrated. "You know what I mean. I wouldn't be some crazy person having panic attacks. I wouldn't have had to go that huge funeral and watch Tank and Dozer's families grieve. I wouldn't have had to stand trial or go see that stupid psychologist."

Wheeler sighed, hoping he hadn't accidently pushed Pixie towards the point where she'd wind up having a panic attack. The former pitcher understood that the whole situation Pixie had found herself in was ugly and she was just trying to cope with it the best she could. The problem was that the only way she was coping was by not coping and having panic attacks.

According to her medical doctor, Pixie had dropped some weight which wasn't good for her as she was already underweight, like a good portion of the women in Zion through no fault of their own. The panic attacks might have been an entirely mental thing but they were taking a toll on Pixie's physical body as well which made Wheeler worry.

He knew Pixie was strong but, since the attack on her ship, Wheeler had become keenly aware of the fact she was quite human. No matter how strong he knew she was, she would eventually hit her breaking point. When she did, Wheeler hoped he was the one there for her. He knew Pixie trusted him almost completely- she still held her secrets but Wheeler wasn't pushing her to give them away. Everyone was entitled to their own secrets, especially those from their Matrix. -so he knew she might be alright breaking down in front of him.

Alright, truthfully, she probably wouldn't be alright with that arrangement since Pixie hated admitting weakness. She was keeping herself going by just grit and her own will. Both of which could give out at a moment's notice thanks to the panic attacks.

"I know what you're talking about," Wheeler said. "Maybe we'd still be sitting on this couch together laughing if things were better but we can't always change things. I learned that in the Matrix. You can't wish things never happened because those wishes never come true."

"I guess," Pixie admitted. "And I do understand what you mean. Morpheus is the type of man who would see things like Cypher being a total head case, or Hawk being a misogynistic narcissist, or me being schizoid and look past all of that just to see if he couldn't help us in some way."

Taking a second to put his thoughts together, Wheeler stated, "Maybe you should stop seeing yourself as whatever that doctor said you are, then. He's only known you for an hour. People like me and our friends and Morpheus, we've known you for like ever. I know you say we're all broken but everything that's broken can be fixed, can't it doc?"

Pixie thought about that for a moment and countered, "Sure most things can be fixed but what if there are some things, some mental scars, that can't be fixed?"

"Then we work around them," Wheeler, matter of factly, answered. "I don't know if I told you this but I'm going to stick around and protect you. It's a promise and I don't break my promises. You're not going to get any new scars, mental or otherwise while I'm around. I'm not going to allow that to happen, Pix. You're too nice a person to have that happen to you."

"And when you're not around?" Pixie wanted to know, half joking, half serious in her query.

"We cross that bridge when we get to it," Wheeler announced, with a bright smile. "I'm around now so you don't have to worry. You can just focus on getting better."

"Well one less thing to worry about has to be a good thing," Pixie almost joked. "I mean, the more I worry, the more likely I am to get one of those stupid attacks."

"About those," Wheeler said. "What did the psychologist say about them?"

"He said they're both a product of this schizoid thing and just something I'm having due to the 'stressful circumstances' I was under," Pixie answered. "He said that I could take medication to control them- He got very annoyed when I told him that wasn't an option for me. -or I could use alternate means. He suggested the meds but I'm going the other way."

Though he didn't want to, Wheeler started to laugh. Pixie, since starting her medical training and probably before that, had always been the most logical one in their group. Her friends, Wheeler being the exception, had found her logical ways more than a little annoying. Aisling argued that they were teenagers and being illogical was normal for them when they weren't working. When they were on the job, working with people older than them, things were different but, when they weren't; they were supposed to act like teenagers.

If Wheeler was the exception to her annoying her friends, Pixie was the exception to Aisling's rule about teenagers. Pixie never acted, in Aisling's estimation anyway, like a "normal" teenager. Her logic might have been fractured at times but she was still far more logical than Aisling, Adoh, Ngaio, and Conall.

Pixie had become, among her friends anyway, infamous for thinking things through before going off and doing them. She'd explained to Wheeler that it was a product of her time in the Matrix and the fact she'd been so sick. She had to consider how best to do things before she couldn't because she was too sick, too tired, or both.

The fact Pixie had decided to use an alternate treatment for her panic attacks was just amusing to Wheeler. It really didn't seem- It might not have been, actually -logical but that was just his opinion. Maybe, someplace in Pixie's head, it made some kind of sense. Wheeler couldn't be sure because he wasn't Pixie nor could he look into Pixie's head, no matter how badly he wanted to most days. It would have made things easier sometimes if he had that ability.

"I know it's weird," Pixie continued almost as if she could read Wheeler's mind. "But I've already been on too many meds in my life. I'm supposed to be practicing what Aisling told me to do but I haven't had time yet."

"So you did talk to Aisling…what did she tell you to do?" Wheeler almost laughed. "And I can't imagine Aisling being helpful, not without asking for a favor in return."

Pixie stifled her giggle in the arm of Wheeler's shirt and explained, "She mentioned she'd be asking for a favor but hasn't said what that something is yet. Another thing for me to worry about I suppose because we all know how Aisling is."

"Unless she helped you out of the kindness of her heart," Wheeler cut in, though he wasn't sure if he even believed his words.

Aisling was one of their friends but she had her own way of doing things. Her favors usual came with some kind or price. It wasn't a mean thing or a cruel thing that she did because she was a good friend to everyone. It was just an Aisling thing, an accepted bartering system that could sometimes be quite annoying.

"You don't even believe that, Wheeler," Pixie pointed out, with her patented pixie's grin. "Aisling will get me back eventually…hopefully sooner rather than later."

Wheeler laughed, shaking his head, and asked "So what did she tell you to do, as your friend instead of your medic?"

"She gave me some breathing exercises but she said she knew I'd never do them unless I was in a room, by myself," Pixie answered. "Since she said I was too thickheaded to do those, I should just count things when I start to feel a panic attack coming on."

"Count things?" the former pitcher stated, near hysterical. "Aisling knows as well as the rest of us that you don't like numbers. You've never liked numbers. Unless that's changed and you haven't told us."

Pixie shook her head- she still disliked math, numbers, and pretty much anything that had to do with math and numbers -and pointed out, "I said the same thing when Aisling suggested I count things but she said it was the perfect activity for me because numbers are logical and panic is not. If I could kick my brain back into logical mode, I'd be able to stop the attack in its tracks. That's the theory anyway."

"That has to be the first time," Wheeler stated, getting up and letting Pixie sprawl out on the couch. "Aisling has ever recommended you use logic for something. Usually she wants you to act like her and Ngaio."

Putting his hands on his hips, Wheeler added, "Have you, at least, tried the counting thing yet?"

"Once, yeah," Pixie answered, propping her head up with one hand. "And it kind of worked. It helped me focus on something past panic, I suppose. I'm not sure it'll work again but it's always worth a try, no?"

"Anything's worth a try to stop these attacks," Wheeler assured her. "Anyway, you take a break. I know this stuff wears you out. I'll try to figure out what we can do about food. You didn't eat again today either."


End file.
